


Pitch Perfect Prompts

by lets_talk_appella



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: A little sad sometimes, Alien Abduction, Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I'll be adding more, Motorcycles, Romance, Side Staubrey, Smut, Tumblr Prompts, bechloe - Freeform, but that's life I suppose, lap dance, naked mole rat charities, some horror week themes in here, these two idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:55:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lets_talk_appella/pseuds/lets_talk_appella
Summary: A collection of prompts I've gotten from Tumblr. I'll be adding more as I get them! Ratings range from G to M.





	1. Restless Nights - M

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "If you can't sleep... we could have sex?"

Jesse snores _so_ loudly. Beca wonders how it's never bothered her before.

Though, she supposes, she usually falls asleep before he does, so she's never really noticed the irritatingly loud rasping sound emitting from his throat. God. It's _so loud_. Like seriously, he's going to wake up everyone else in the Treble house.

Or maybe not, Beca thinks as she rolls to her side, her back to Jesse. Most of the Trebles have already moved out in anticipation of their ending lease. She and Jesse are due to leave the day after next, too, headed to LA.

Just the thought of the move makes Beca's stomach flood with molten nerves. She frowns, punching her pillow into a new shape. That's been happening a lot lately - anxiety about moving. She's not really sure why; she'd always planned on heading to LA after college to start her producing career. Plus, instead of doing it on her own, she gets to bring her boyfriend of three years along, as he was offered a job there as well.

Everything is all lined up.

Really. Everything. She graduated. She and Jesse have an apartment in LA, signed under his name. The Bellas won Worlds. Emily’s going to take over captaincy. They've already signed the house over to her, and the rest of the Bellas will be moving out within the next days as well.

Unsurprisingly, Chloe is going to be the last to move out. She won’t leave until the day their lease ends, after everyone else is gone.

For some reason, the thought makes Beca uneasy. She doesn't like to think of Chloe alone in the house. Beca knows it'll make her sad, without anyone to cuddle and all their empty rooms staring back at her. She realizes with a pang that she’s not sure where Chloe’s going to go after she leaves. Somehow, all they’ve talked about lately is Beca’s move to LA.

Beca rolls again to lie on her back, this time purposefully jostling the bed, hoping it'll get Jesse to stop snoring. It doesn’t. In fact, his snores get even louder.

She turns her face to glare at him, annoyed. He'd better not do this in LA.

Closing her eyes, Beca exhales her frustration. She shouldn't have thought of Chloe alone in the Bella house. It made her nervousness reappear. Or maybe it was the LA thing again. Beca frowns at the ceiling fan in Jesse's room.

She's not sure she made the right decision to spend the night with him instead of in the Bella house. She’d figured she should be with Jesse, because she hasn't actually stayed with him since before the retreat at spring break (she's been busy with the Worlds, that's all), but now that she's here it feels wrong. His bed isn’t comfortable _at all_ , and her mind won’t stay quiet.

She wonders what movie the Bellas watched together before they went to bed. Wonders what Chloe and Stacie made for dinner. Wonders what type of alcoholic concoction Amy had forced them all to drink. Wonders what scary thing Lilly whispered this time.

Mainly, she wonders where Chloe spent the night.

It's somehow become a regular thing for Chloe to show up in the room Beca and Amy share and climb in Beca's bed with her. Only when Amy's not there, of course; Beca is positive that would bring back the whole “Bloe” thing all over again. But it's been nice, waking up with Chloe wrapped around her. It was weird at first, but Beca likes the warm, solid presence of her best friend at her back, and she knows how much Chloe likes to cuddle. But Chloe's probably in her own bed tonight.

Jesse's not touching her. He didn't even hold her when they first got into bed; he didn’t wrap his arms around her like he used to. And back when Jesse _did_ used to hold her, Beca remembers, it had felt suffocating.

Chloe never feels like that.

Chloe doesn't snore.

And Beca doesn't want to go to LA. More than anything, she really, really doesn't want to go with Jesse.

The realization makes Beca rip the covers away and scramble from the bed. Her hands move up to fist in her hair and she paces around the room, her overlarge sleep shirt flowing around her to where it stops mid-thigh. She can’t go, she can’t just move across the country, she can’t live with Jesse, she can’t leave C –

Before the thought can fully form, Jesse gasps awake mid-snore, roused by her sudden movement and the sound of her frantic breaths.

"Ugh... Beca? What - what're you doing?" he asks drowsily, his voice raspy with sleep.

Her head snaps around to look at him, all tousled hair and blinking brown eyes. Her heart pangs once; she really does care for him, but knows they have no real future together.

She opens her mouth to tell him this, to let him know that she's not going with him to LA, that she's breaking up with him, but she can't quite manage it. She closes her mouth, seeing the unease in his eyes. She'll wait until morning. She needs to be sure she's not making some stupid late-night decision. He deserves that much, at least.

"Nothing," she finally replies, "can't sleep is all."

He continues to blink up at her, staring at her intently. She bites the inside of her lip, wondering if he somehow _knows_ , praying he won't ask again.

But then he says, "Well, if you can't sleep... we could have sex?"

She's not quite prepared for the distaste and annoyance that rises in her throat at the suggestion. It should be obvious that she's having some sort of freak out, and instead of comforting her or asking what's wrong, Jesse asks for sex. She knows for sure then that it's the beginning of their end.

He looks hopeful, and she realizes with another pang that it has been a while. It's on her; she'd been so busy that sex with her boyfriend had just slipped her mind. And, well, if she’s honest with herself, she hasn't really wanted to sleep with Jesse lately. Emotionally stunted as she may be, she can still tell there's been something missing between them for some time.

Besides, staying in the Bella house and falling asleep next to Chloe had become more appealing lately. Maybe that should send warning bells off in her head, but it doesn’t.

Eventually, she replies, "No, I..." she trails off momentarily at the disappointment in his face. "I think I should maybe go."

"Is everything okay?" Jesse asks, finally understanding that there's something wrong.

She knows she really should just tell him, but it’s late and she needs to be positive she's in the right mindset before letting him know that she can't go with him. It wouldn't be fair to him otherwise.

So, she says, "I'm good, I think I just need to head home - I mean, to the Bellas."

She winces internally at the slip up, knowing he wants her home to be with him. The suddenly guarded expression on his face tells her he’d noticed.

"Well..." Jesse says slowly, "if you're not feeling good, maybe you will sleep better in your own bed." He does a remarkable job of keeping the bitterness from his tone, she thinks, but she can still spot the defeat in his eyes.

For the first time, it occurs to her that Jesse might also be having second thoughts about going to LA together. She can't really blame him.

She nods in agreement of his words and, not knowing what else to do, moves to the bedside nightstand. She unplugs her phone from its charger, stuffing it in the overnight bag she'd brought containing her day clothes and toiletries. Jesse doesn't say anything, only watches as she finishes packing and moves to the door to slip on her shoes.

Beca feels his eyes on her but doesn't look back at him as she pulls open the door and leaves his room. She closes it softly behind her before tip-toeing down the stairs, careful not to wake anyone that might still be in the house. As she makes her way to the front door, she wonders dimly if Jesse is going to come running from his room to stop her, to ask what's really wrong and guide her back to his room. He doesn't, though, and she reaches the front door in seconds.

Unlocking the deadbolt, she opens the door and steps out onto the porch before tugging it closed behind her. She can't lock it, because she doesn't have a key, but it'll be okay for the few hours left before daylight. She pauses for a moment, leaning against the door and letting her head loll onto it as her eyes slide closed.

She needs a minute. All she'd known is that she had to get away from Jesse so she could think. She wants to go to her own bed, like Jesse had said, but she can't bear the thought of being alone.

Her eyes snap open. She knows where she needs to be.

Lifting herself off the door, she reaches the edge of the porch and jumps down. She fights her way through the bushes separating the Treble and Bella properties, not wanting to waste energy going around to the sidewalk. Though, she reflects as she untangles a branch from her hair, maybe the sidewalk would have been a smarter option in the dark.

Swearing under her breath, she makes it through the thicket and onto the Bella side. In seconds, she's at the front door, using her key to get in, and then closing and re-locking it behind her. She doesn't pause as she makes her way up the stairs to the first landing, the smell of microwave popcorn from whatever movie the Bellas had watched earlier still lingering in the air. Turning left at the top of the stairs, Beca walks quietly past the room Ashley and Jessica share, past Stacie's single room (no one had really wanted to share with her and The Hunter), until she ends up outside the last room in the hall.

For the first time since leaving the Treble yard, she hesitates. Maybe it would be crossing some sort of line to just waltz into Chloe's room unannounced. Chloe might not even be there; maybe she spent the night with someone else, Bella or otherwise. For some reason, the thought makes Beca's stomach clench unpleasantly. The unexpected sensation gives her the courage to rest her hand on the door handle and turn, opening the door slowly. She peeks her head around the door, not wanting to startle Chloe if she's still awake.

The presence of a lump in Chloe's bed soothes Beca's strange unease immediately as she steps fully into the room. She pulls the door closed behind her and plops her overnight bag on the floor near Chloe's desk. When she turns back to the bed, the familiar sound of Chloe's soft breathing makes her smile.

She figures it would be kind of a dick move to just climb right into bed with Chloe before announcing herself; it would probably scare her, and Beca doesn't really want to get screamed at or punched in the throat.

"Chlo," she whispers. "Chlo, it's me."

Nothing. Beca rolls her eyes. Chloe can be a heavy sleeper.

"Chloe, wake up," she tries a little louder.

Still nothing. It’s like talking to a rock.

With an affectionate sigh, Beca leans over to poke at the blanket-covered lump. "Chloe! Hey! Dude!" she calls loudly.

This time, the lump stirs feebly and a sleepy voice replies, "Wha... I don't want a cat."

Beca's startled laugh finally does the trick, and soon Beca's looking at a blinking, adorably confused Chloe Beale sitting up and yawning at her. Unable to resist some teasing, Beca asks, "Dreaming about cats?"

Ignoring that, Chloe mumbles, "Bec, why're you here?" as she rubs the sleep from her eyes.

Beca looks down at her feet, still in the Converse she'd slipped on at Jesse's. Awkwardness suddenly washes over her; maybe she'd been presumptuous to barge into Chloe's room in the dead of night. It’s silent, and Beca knows Chloe is watching her, waiting for an answer.

"Um," she begins, "I couldn't sleep."

"Weren't you with Jesse?" Chloe says, her tone uncharacteristically sharp.

Beca glances up at her with a grimace. "Yeah, but I... I needed, uh..." it feels childish to use the world “cuddles,” but she's not sure what else to call it, so she resorts to awkwardly flapping her arms around and sort of gesturing with a hug. Excellent.

Thankfully, Chloe catches on quickly. She frowns at Beca and says, "Couldn’t Jesse hold you?" Beca flinches as if Chloe had struck her. She hadn't expected Chloe to sound so… accusing.

Beca again drops her gaze to her feet as she whispers shamefacedly, "I didn't want him to."

There's a long pause, and Beca risks looking up. Chloe's staring at her, a weird expression on her face, one that Beca can't read. She almost looks disapproving, but with something more. Whatever this is, this awkward tension between them that's never been present before, Beca hates it. She's about to tell Chloe never mind, that she'll go up to the room she shares with Amy, when Chloe breaks the silence.

"Come here.”

Chloe’s voice is gentle, her expression softening as she scoots over and pulls the blankets to one side so there's room for Beca.

The tension in the room breaks and Beca exhales, relieved. A soothing warmth fills her chest as she slips her shoes off and climbs into Chloe's bed, still in her sleepwear. Normally, she would lie with her back against Chloe's front, but she thinks maybe since it’s Chloe’s bed, she should do things differently.

"Turn around," she says, and Chloe's eyebrows lift a little in surprise, but she turns so her back is to Beca when she lays down. Beca scoots up behind her, aligning their hips before she also lays down.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to toss her arm over Chloe's waist and pull Chloe into her, so she's not sure why Chloe inhales sharply at the movement.

It takes them a little longer than usual to settle, Chloe stiff against her, but Beca chalks it up to the different position. Eventually, though, Chloe relaxes back into her, making Beca smile into her shoulder. And maybe it should scare her, how welcome Chloe feels in her arms, how much more she likes sharing a bed with Chloe than she ever did with Jesse, but the fear never comes. She knows there's nowhere she'd rather be.

She closes her eyes and lets herself be lulled to a doze by the feel of Chloe's breaths. Chloe shifts a little, her sleep shirt rising, and Beca's fingers brush against exposed skin low on her abdomen. Mind still clogged with sleep, Beca lets her fingers trail repeatedly over warm skin, making swirling patterns.

She feels Chloe's breath hitch and muscles tense. Beca stops moving her hand instantly, suddenly feeling more awake than ever.

"Beca," Chloe breathes, her tone almost warning.

"I can't go to LA with him," Beca blurts out before she can stop herself.

The weird tension immediately rushes back, but now so much worse because Beca can’t see Chloe’s face. She can only feel how rigid Chloe has abruptly become, as if preparing to fling herself away from the bed. The deafening silence stretches on, until Beca becomes worried – has Chloe even taken a breath? – but then –

“So you came here?” Chloe’s voice sounds weird. Strangled. She sounds both sad and happy at the same time, and Beca has no idea what to make of it.

“I…” Beca isn’t sure what to say. She’s completely thrown. She’s not sure what she’d been expecting Chloe to say, but that certainly wasn’t it.

Chloe reaches down to lift Beca’s arm from around her waist and pulls away. Hurt flares in Beca’s chest, hot and shocking, but then Chloe’s turning around and pulling her into her chest.

“I think _you_ need to be held right now,” Chloe whispers into Beca’s hair, her hands moving around Beca’s back. Beca reaches to her instinctively, returning the hug as she tucks her face into Chloe’s neck, inhaling her familiar scent.

As she’s drifting off to sleep, she thinks she feels lips press against her forehead, but she can’t be sure. Her last thought before falling to darkness is _home_.

* * *

The next day, she goes back to the Treble house. Jesse’s waiting for her in the living room, some movie she doesn’t recognize but that is probably very famous paused on the screen. He doesn’t seem surprised when she tells him she can’t go to LA with him.

He doesn’t even seem surprised when she tells him they need to break up. She almost wishes he would at least pretend to try and change her mind, but he doesn’t.

When he says, “I think that’s for the best,” she tries not to let him see her relief.

She feels guilty about how easy it is to walk out of his house and his life, but by the time she reaches the front door of the Bella house, knowing Chloe is waiting for her on the other side, she feels nothing but joy.

* * *

It feels only natural to ask Chloe and Amy to come with her to New York when she gets her job transferred there from LA. The beaming smile Chloe sends her when she asks only serves to reinforce the feeling.

* * *

It feels even more natural to kiss Chloe for the first time, almost a year after they move in together. And when they start dating, Jesse is the first person she tells.

He laughs (kindly, and without bitterness) and says she should have kissed Chloe years ago. She privately agrees.

* * *

When she and Chloe become serious, they move out of the tiny closet they share with Amy. Surprisingly, the idea is Amy’s.

“If I have to walk in on you aca-lesbos one more time, I swear to God I’ll set a crocodile on you. Or Lilly.”

With that frightening threat looming over them, they manage to find their own apartment within days.

* * *

And that is how, about two months after moving into their own place, Beca finds herself being rudely awoken by a sharp jab to her ribs.

“Hmm?” she grunts, “whaz ‘appening?”

Chloe clicks her tongue from next to Beca and huffs impatiently, "You were talking in your sleep again. It was keeping me awake."

Beca yawns hugely and turns toward her girlfriend. “Doesn’t normally bother you,” she says, feeling more awake.

“Yeah, well, usually the fan drowns it out.”

Their window fan had broken that day. A strong gust of wind had forced it out the window and to the floor with a crash. Beca had spent several minutes using a screwdriver and much swearing to try to get it working again but had failed miserably. So, there’s currently no fan to drown out Beca’s nighttime mutterings.

Beca wrinkles her nose; she’d always been one to talk in her sleep and she doesn’t see how she can stop now. But Chloe’s looking at her with a jutting lower lip and huge puppy eyes, so Beca has to fix the situation somehow.

Without thinking it through, she says the first thing that comes to mind: “If you can’t sleep… we could have sex?”

“ _What_ did you just say?” Chloe’s eyes widen, and she looks at Beca like she’d suddenly grown a second head.

“Uh,” Beca gapes, panicking. She really hadn’t meant to say that, something so crude that _Jesse_ had once said to her, but it had just happened, and she knows she needs to fix it before she spends the night on the couch. “Wait, I – uh, I didn’t… it just slipped –”

“Okay,” Chloe replies decisively, her expression turning amused.

“What?”

“Okay,” Chloe repeats. “Let’s do that.”

Beca can only stare mutely as Chloe moves closer to her, the sheets rustling. She’s beyond surprised by Chloe’s response – she was sure she was going to be yelled at for her crassness – but she’s even more surprised by the hand that ghosts under her pajama shorts to cup her crotch over her underwear.

She grunts and sees a flash of white teeth in the dim room as Chloe grins at her.

“Too much?” Chloe asks sweetly as she moves to hover over Beca, her hand pressing against her firmly.

“N-no, you just –” but before she can say “surprised me,” Chloe drops down to kiss her, hard. The hand against her crotch pulls away to instead slide up under her shirt, nails running gently below her breast. Chloe’s mouth is relentless, her lips moving with a vigor that Beca hadn’t been expecting for the middle of the night. They trail a fiery path over Beca’s mouth and down to her jaw. Beca reflexively tilts her head back into the pillow, exposing her neck; she hears her own breath hitch the instant Chloe presses open-mouthed kisses against the skin there.

Beca’s hands have somehow found their way to Chloe’s lower back, under her shirt, and she revels in the firm muscle she feels there. Her hands clutch at Chloe and she whimpers at the feel of Chloe’s tongue dragging up her neck.

“Chlo –”

Whatever she was going to say – really, she had no idea what she was going to say – is muffled when Chloe’s lips land on hers again. Chloe shifts over her and Beca knows what she wants; she parts her legs to allow Chloe to slip a knee between her thighs.

Chloe smiles into the kiss at Beca’s response, then nips at Beca’s lower lip. Completely overwhelmed, Beca opens her mouth and there’s suddenly _Chloe_ , Chloe everywhere. A tongue is tangled with her own; fingers graze over her breast, then a whole hand covers it; soft skin on Chloe’s back sears her fingertips.

The first roll of Chloe’s hips into Beca’s makes her jolt; the second has her groaning into Chloe’s mouth, and the third makes her lift her free leg to hook over Chloe’s hip, giving Chloe more access.

Without missing a beat, Chloe’s hand slides away from her breast, down her stomach, and dips into Beca’s shorts. And Beca knows she’s already worked up, probably embarrassingly so, and she really wants nothing more than to let Chloe touch her, enter her, bring her to ecstasy, but Chloe’s hand is really confined in Beca’s shorts and – and they’re still both fully clothed.

Beca’s eyes fly open and she jerks away from Chloe with an extremely flustered, “Wait!”

Chloe looks down at her in confusion, pupils dark, lips swollen, and hair framing her face.

“We – we’re still dressed,” Beca manages breathlessly.

“Oh! Well, let’s fix that.”

Chloe rolls off her (Beca misses the contact immediately) and reaches to pull her own shirt up and over her head. Beca barely has time to appreciate that Chloe isn’t wearing a bra before she feels fingers working at her own shirt; she sits up to make it easier for Chloe to take it off of her. Chloe tosses the shirt across the room haphazardly, not caring that it lands on a dresser and knocks over several bottles of lotion as her eyes land on Beca’s bare chest. She reaches for Beca’s shorts, but this time, Beca musters the brainpower needed to catch her hand before it can get there.

“Let me,” Beca says in response to Chloe’s questioning look.

Beca scoots over to the edge of the bed and stands. Her head is buzzing, numb with shock at how this whole thing turned out. She’d been kidding, really, when she’d suggested it, but she’s not about to start complaining now. But Chloe has had the upper hand this whole time… she wants to change that up a little.

So, when Chloe moves to stand from the bed as well, Beca insists, “Nope, you stay there.”

As she knew would happen, Chloe freezes and need washes over her expression. Beca smirks, letting smugness into the expression, and Chloe whimpers. She likes Beca in control.

And when Beca reaches to touch Chloe’s ankle with a whispered “come here,” Chloe can’t scoot herself over fast enough. Beca watches her settle, her legs hanging over the end of the bed with Beca standing between them. Chloe makes such a beautiful vision in that moment, on her back and staring up at Beca with wide, dark eyes, one hand reaching out, the other already fisted into the sheets, that Beca almost takes a step back. It astounds her, still, that Chloe wants her so badly, loves her and trusts her enough to be this vulnerable in front of her.

She reaches down slowly to slide Chloe’s shorts and underwear down, moving to the side to cast them away. She also removes her own, stepping out of the garments quickly and leaving them on the floor.

Even though this is hardly their first time, it feels like a wonderful dream as Beca drops slowly, first to her left knee, then to her right, her hands resting on Chloe’s thighs. Beca’s stomach swoops in anticipation at the same time Chloe props herself up on her elbows and whispers her name.

“Beca,” she breathes, and it takes everything Beca has to draw out the moment rather than giving in. She presses one soft kiss to the inside of Chloe’s right knee, then to her left. Chloe sighs and relaxes, laying down completely on the bed.

Beca moves a few inches higher, lips ghosting over the tops of Chloe’s thighs. Chloe’s toes curl and she reaches one hand down; Beca reaches up to lace their fingers together. The next instant, though, she’s using her free hand, pushing gently at Chloe’s thigh. Immediately, Chloe opens her legs wider. Beca’s own center throbs and her stomach muscles tense at the sight.

“You look beautiful,” she says reverently, and Chloe’s hand tightens in hers.

“You always say that,” Chloe gasps, and Beca glances up to see her eyes screwed shut tight and her free hand still tangled in the sheets.

“Well, I always mean it,” whispers Beca before gently pulling her hand from Chloe’s grip to drape one of Chloe’s legs over her shoulder.

She _sees_ the effect that simple movement has on Chloe, her stomach muscles jumping and hips already lifting. Beca hums her appreciation as Chloe’s now-freed fingers thread into her hair. She presses her lips high on Chloe’s inner thigh, running her nose along the same path. She can feel the heat coming from Chloe against her face, and she can’t resist pressing a single kiss to Chloe’s center.

Chloe arches with a hiss before falling back on the bed. “Stop teasing,” she grunts, making Beca smile.

“As you wish,” Beca says, looping her arms under Chloe’s legs to anchor her hips.

Chloe starts to say something else, maybe to call Beca cheesy for the line, but she’s cut off by her own strangled groan as Beca uses the new leverage to pull her open even wider. Beca knows she doesn’t need anymore teasing, she can _see_ it, so she ducks her head to press her mouth against Chloe.

The first broad lick up through folds drags a “ _Bec – oh_ ,” from Chloe. The second has her thighs tensing and her heel digging into Beca’s back. And the third makes her hips grind into Beca’s face with a deep moan.

Beca’s having the time of her life. She can’t really breathe, but she doesn’t mind, refuses to stop her actions for something as silly as oxygen, because it would stop the noises Chloe makes. And that would be unacceptable. She watches Chloe’s reactions as she swirls her tongue around, occasionally sucking on swollen, sensitive skin, purposely avoiding the point where Chloe wants her most.

“Up – Bec – up higher,” Chloe gasps brokenly. Beca only hums in response, pressing into Chloe so that the vibrations can travel from her throat to Chloe’s core.

She keeps going, not yet finding rhythm, only alternating between licking broad strokes and flicking her tongue around, occasionally prodding with her nose to draw deep groans from Chloe. It’s not until Chloe’s writhing, the hand in Beca’s hair starting to claw almost painfully, that Beca attaches her mouth fully and presses her tongue inside.

“Oh – yes – shit –” Chloe pants and her thighs start to close around Beca’s head, but she forces them back open with her hands. She pulls her tongue along Chloe’s walls deliberately slowly before pulling out and pushing back in. 

Her own core aches, begging for attention, and her jaw is starting to cramp a little, but Beca keeps going. In, out, in, out, until a particularly strong roll of Chloe’s hips loosens her grip on her thighs, and Beca’s completely encased in Chloe as her thighs close around her. It’s only then Beca gives in, finally moving up to close her lips around Chloe’s swollen bundle of nerves.

Chloe’s entire body jerks and she cries out, though the sound is muffled to Beca. The hand in Beca’s hair disappears, and she glances up to see it fisted in the sheets with its partner. She unhooks her left arm from Chloe’s leg, bringing her hand up to push two fingers inside as she sucks on her clit. Chloe’s entire body tenses, tightening and twitching around Beca’s fingers. At the familiar sensation, Beca redoubles her efforts, pumping her fingers in and out, curling them and rubbing inside as she circles her tongue around Chloe’s bud.

“Unh – God – Bec – don’t you dare stop – right there – shit – keep going – I’m going to –”

Chloe clenches around Beca, hard enough that Beca has to slow her movements. Beca wrenches her face away so she can watch as it happens. Chloe crashes over the edge, pulsing around Beca’s fingers, her thighs clamping on the hand between her legs. Beca takes in Chloe’s furrowed brow, open mouth, and closed eyes, memorizing every detail as she moves her fingers gently, easing Chloe down.

When her body finally relaxes and her thighs fall open, Beca pulls out gently, wincing in sympathy when Chloe grunts at the emptiness.

Beca lifts herself off her knees – they’ll probably bruise from being knelt on for so long, but she doesn’t care – to lean and hover over Chloe, her hands on either side of her head as she leans down for a kiss. Chloe’s eyes remain closed, but she responds eagerly to the kiss, her tongue flicking out to taste herself on Beca’s lips.

Between kisses, she asks sarcastically, “So that was okay?”

Chloe smiles against her lips and whispers, “Shut up. Your head doesn’t need to be any bigger.”

In her second brilliant stroke of word vomit for the night, Beca fires out, “Size doesn’t matter. It’s how you use it.”

Chloe pulls away from the kiss to look up at her, her eyes still glazed. “That… doesn’t make sense.”

Beca wiggles her eyebrows and replies, “I know you are but what am I?”

“Shut up.”

Chloe shuffles up so that she’s completely on the bed, still on her back. Beca follows, crawling with her knees on either side of Chloe’s hips.

“What are you doing now?” Chloe huffs, confused.

“I thought you liked me on top,” Beca says, feeling more playful than the situation (and the fire between her legs) should really warrant.

“Well, fine, then,” Chloe says, reaching up and pulling Beca down and into a firm kiss.

She feels Chloe’s hands move to her back, fingertips running down her spine. Chloe deepens the kiss instantly, her tongue licking into Beca’s mouth and her hands clutching. Beca loses herself for an instant when Chloe lifts a thigh up into Beca’s center. She grinds down on it helplessly as Chloe lifts up into her rhythmically.

Chloe nips her lip and the hands at her back scratch at her skin, making her gasp. She can’t believe Chloe knows how to do these things; they never talked about how Beca likes the sting, likes some roughness, but Chloe just knows. As it has always done, Beca’s body sings for Chloe like no one else.

Yet, it still surprises her when Chloe’s fingers appear between her legs, immediately inside.

Beca groans, breaking the kiss and her elbows giving so that her forehead hits the pillow and her right cheek is pressed against Chloe’s left. Chloe’s not being delicate – she doesn’t need to be – and the fingers of one hand thrust into Beca frantically while her other hand glides through folds, stroking along skin that’s been throbbing since Beca first dropped to her knees. Beca tries to hold on, she really does, but then Chloe’s thrusting even harder and deeper and the other hand presses against her, three fingers circling relentlessly and Beca squeezes her eyes shut and her back tenses and she comes.

For the next minute – or maybe it’s an hour, or a second, she isn’t sure – all she registers is wave after wave of pulsing pleasure surrounding the fingers moving inside of her. Eventually, though, her muscles give out and she relaxes, her body melting into the bed. When she opens her eyes, she’s somehow on her back with no memory of how she got there and with Chloe hovering over her.

“Uh,” is all she can manage.

Chloe grins at her, looking far too satisfied with herself, easing out before rolling off to lay next to her. Beca feels Chloe lace their fingers together and she holds on tight, worried that if she doesn’t she’ll float away.

After a minute, Chloe says casually to the ceiling, “So, I think we should do that every time one of us has trouble sleeping. And, unrelated – let’s not bother getting a new window fan.”

Beca only laughs; at the excellence of their sex life, at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, and at the pure, unfiltered love she has for Chloe Beale.


	2. I Want to See You Be Brave - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "I'm your lock screen?!" "You weren't supposed to see that."
> 
> For this one, I did an alternate version of the "Confession Scene" following the fight for the pitch pipe in PP1. Enjoy!

Beca Mitchell was not to be messed with. Or at least, that was the image she always liked to project. The freshman gave off a distinctly badass, do-not-disturb-or-I’ll-cut-you vibe. The numerous ear piercings, thick eyeliner, and dark clothing, combined with her “fuck off” facial expressions, made Beca intimidating and off-putting to most people.

Chloe thought she was absolutely adorable.

Well. Adorable and really, insanely hot.

Beca’s people-hating image was what first snared Chloe’s attention at the Activities Fair. Beyond that, there was just something about that “alternative” brunette that Chloe was drawn to. Maybe it was that Chloe had always been curious about the “bad” types – her first boyfriend had definitely had a goth phase. Maybe it was Beca’s quiet confidence and slight awkwardness. Maybe it was the gut feeling Chloe had – that this short girl would somehow become incredibly important to her. Or maybe it was just Beca’s good looks.

Whatever it was, Beca drew Chloe in like a magnet before they even had their first conversation.

And as the more she got to know Beca, the more Chloe’s captivation grew. She could tell that Beca’s hardened exterior hid a total softie underneath. She adored Beca’s singing voice. She was intrigued by Beca’s talent with music. But above all, Chloe was enthralled by Beca’s bravery.

Like when Beca met her eyes and sang “Titanium” in a shower, even though Chloe had basically assaulted her (looking back, Chloe is just grateful she was screamed at or slapped).

Or when Beca dumped out a plastic cup full of pens to make her own beat instead of just singing Kelly Clarkson like everyone else.

Or when she started to rap in front of every a cappella group on campus.

Or every time she questioned Aubrey, trying to make the Bellas even better. (Because Chloe knew that’s what Beca was really trying to do, even if she acted like she didn’t care.)

Or when Beca punched a grown man in the face to defend her friends.

And, more recently, when Beca sang the lyrics to Bulletproof over the Bella’s set at semifinals. That was the second most courageous thing Chloe had ever seen (the first being Aubrey’s ability to get back up on stage following Puke-gate).

Beca was all kinds of brave that Chloe wished she could be. Chloe knew she wasn’t nearly as brave as Beca; if she was, she’d have run after Beca following the semis. She’d have stood up to Aubrey sooner. She’d have gotten her nodes removed right away.

She’d have told Beca that she had feelings for her.

It was regret and shame, spiky and hot, that spurred Chloe to action following the disastrous semis performance. After watching Beca walk away from her and feeling every footstep like a punch to the gut, Chloe told herself she would be more brave.

So, she decided to get her nodes removed. (She could have lost her singing voice forever.)

So, she chose to text Beca when the Bellas were allowed in the finals. (Beca had every right to reject and ignore her, finally and completely.)

So, she chose to stand up to Aubrey, because, damn it, they really _could_ have been champions. (She could have been kicked out of the Bellas by her own best friend.)

She didn’t lose her voice, but instead gained a new octave.

Beca didn’t reject her, but instead reappeared at rehearsal.

Aubrey didn’t kick her out of the Bellas, and they were still friends after their fight (and after Aubrey projectile-vomited all over the auditorium).

Chloe gained even more than she had ever imagined by being brave. But she still hadn’t told Beca how she felt about her. That would require a different kind of bravery, a greater courage than she’d ever shown before.

Chloe almost laughed when Beca – of all people, Beca, the girl who pretended not to care – suggested that they all play a game to get to know each other better once the smoke cleared following the fight over the Pitch Pipe. It really was a very good idea; Chloe realized with a pang that she barely knew any of the other girls, almost like they were minor characters in a story about Aubrey, Beca, herself, and that Jesse guy. Which would be lame, because why on earth would Jesse matter more than any of the Bellas?

Unfortunately, Beca didn’t actually know any get-to-know-you games, so the task was left to the rest of them. Amy had suggested Never Have I Ever, which Beca shot down immediately. CR knew a good one apparently involving a hat and slips of paper, but seeing as no one had either of those things, that one was a bust. Lilly whispered something that made Beca scoot away from her looking frightened. Eventually, Stacie suggested they go around the circle and guess what everyone had as their phone lock screen.

Chloe had loved the idea, as had most everyone else – it was simple, fun, and easily played sitting in their circle in the auditorium. It wasn’t until everyone else had agreed to the game that Chloe noticed that Beca had suddenly gone silent and stony-faced.

If Chloe was as brave as Beca, she’d have suggested they play something else. But she wasn’t, so she didn’t.

They began with Amy, who withdrew her phone from a pocket and held it aloft with pride. “Okay, you aca-bitches, you’re never gonna get mine.”

“Is it Bumper?” Beca asked immediately, looking at Amy with narrowed eyes. Chloe felt Aubrey shift in her chair and held out a hand to stop her from saying anything.

“Well, looks like Aubrey is next!” Amy said loudly, ignoring Beca’s suggestion. “I’m guessing… a group photo of the Bellas?”

“Nope,” said Aubrey bracingly. “Guess again.”

“A ruler?” CR asked, making Aubrey roll her eyes.

“Definitely not.”

There was a pause as the Bellas scrunched their faces in thought. Chloe bit her lip; she didn’t think it would be fair of her to guess, since she already knew.

After a minute of silence, Aubrey tutted and said imperiously, “Well, if you guys aren’t going to guess –”

“Wait, no!” exclaimed Stacie suddenly, sitting up straight and pointing an accusing finger at Aubrey. “Is it the manufacturing default lock screen?”

Aubrey remained silent. Chloe tried to hide her own smile.

Stacie gasped, “It is, isn’t it?!”

Aubrey closed her eyes briefly and sighed. “Yes. It is.”

Everyone laughed at that; Chloe saw even Beca crack a smile despite her opposition to their game.

Chloe was next in line, so she prepared herself to shoot down some ridiculous suggestions. However –

“ _You_ definitely have the Bella group photo,” said CR dismissively, waving a hand. Chloe slumped back in her seat, defeated; she was right.

“Okay, you’re never gonna get mine,” Stacie said, raising her phone.

“Is it a butt?” Amy asked immediately.

Stacie shook her head no, her nose wrinkled.

“Is it the Hunter?” CR suggested, looking hopeful.

“Meh,” said Stacie, “I thought about it, but nah.”

“Something related to dance?” asked Aubrey, only for Stacie to shake her head again.

“You guys aren’t going to get it. Here,” and she held out her phone to reveal the NASA logo. “I want to go into aerospace engineering and work for NASA! Didn’t any of you know that?”

She was met with silence and a lot of blinking. She shrugged, looking smug as she put her phone away.

Next was Cynthia-Rose, who pulled out her phone with a sigh.

Amy shot her hand into the air. “Is it a softball team?”

CR only frowned at her, annoyed. Chloe, going out on a limb, asked, “Is it a cat?” (Amy immediately muttered something to Aubrey, making Aubrey’s face turn bright red.)

Another head shake, and Ashely (Jessica?) called out, “A friend?”

CR sighed again, then lifted her phone.

“No, it’s the Ace of Hearts,” she said. When they all stared blankly at her, she grimaced and said, “Well, I’ve had a gambling problem since I broke up with my girlfriend.”

“Whoomph, there it is!” Amy stage whispered. It was a tense moment until CR put her phone away and reclined in her chair. Everyone turned to look at Lilly, who was next in line.

Silence. No one seemed to want to guess what her screen was. Stacie muttered, “A knife?” sarcastically.

Lilly shook her head and whispered, “It’s my unborn twin’s ultrasound photo.”

There was a beat of horrified silence, broken only by the creaking of Beca’s chair as she leaned away from Lilly for the second time. Unfortunately, the noise shifted everyone’s attention to Beca, who was next in the game.

“You’re up, Shawshank,” Amy said loudly.

“Um, no, I’d rather not –” Beca started, looking mildly alarmed.

Her protests were cut off when CR guessed first. “Is it your mixing equipment?”

Beca shook her head once, her eyes fixed on the ground in the middle of the circle of Bellas.

“Something mash-up related?” Aubrey suggested, making Beca sink a little lower.

“Wait, is it Jesse?” Amy cut in, a little too eagerly in Chloe’s opinion.

Beca shook her head violently, her a splotch of red rising in her neck. Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

“Oh, come on, it is him,” Amy insisted, making Aubrey snort and nod in agreement.

Beca grimaced and shook her head no again. Chloe tried desperately to think of something else to say – anything – but came up completely blank. It didn’t help that she was as curious as the rest of them were.

“Liar, it is Jesse!” Amy exclaimed, lunging across the circle for Beca’s phone. Beca shrieked and tried to escape, but Amy was on her in an instant, trying to drag her phone from her grasp. Beside her, Ashley, Jessica, and Denise half-rose from their chairs as if to join the scuffle.

At that moment, Beca made one more desperate lunge for freedom, twisting in Amy’s hold; Chloe watched as if in slow motion as Beca’s phone fell from her grasp and bounced twice on the auditorium floor (thank god it was in a case) to land directly at Chloe’s feet. Everyone froze, even Amy (who had Beca in a headlock) and watched as Chloe automatically reached to pick up the phone.

She knew she shouldn’t. It wasn’t right. But she couldn’t help but _accidentally-on-purpose_ pressing Beca’s home button, causing the phone to flare to life and the lock screen to appear.

She stared at the screen for an instant in shock, then glanced up at Beca, still in the headlock and getting redder by the second, the panic and desperation clear in her expression.

Time turned watery; Chloe angled the phone so that the other Bellas couldn’t see. She thought she felt Aubrey stiffen next to her as if in response to what was on the screen, so she turned it into her chest even further.

Chloe shifted her gaze from Beca’s panicked face down to the phone. She stared uncomprehendingly at the screen, not understanding why her own eyes were looking back at her.

Chloe’s heart thudded once, twice, in the time it took her to fully register that Beca’s lock screen was a picture of her.

It was a selfie she’d taken; that part wasn’t surprising. Chloe knew she had a bad selfie habit. It was also not surprising that in the photo, she was standing in her duck onesie, getting ready for a casual night in with Aubrey. Chloe even remembered taking the selfie and sending it to the Bella group chat. Because yes, as many issues as they’d had as a group, they had started the year with a group chat.

What was surprising, though, was that Beca had very obviously – _painfully_ obviously – saved the selfie and had set it as her phone’s lock screen. Beca Mitchell did this. Beca. The freshman that hated everyone and everything on this earth. Beca. Who wore dark eyeliner all the time to hide behind. Beca, who shoved everyone away for reasons unknown to Chloe. Beca, who had left the group chat immediately after semis.

She’d have thought if anyone would be the lock screen, it would be that Treble guy, Jesse. But no, Beca hadn’t been lying – she just hadn’t wanted to tell the truth. It seemed that for the first time since Chloe had met Beca, Beca’s bravery had failed her.

Getting over the confusion, Chloe’s chest filled with a wave of excitement. Beca considered her a friend. Maybe… more than a friend? To have this photo as her lock screen? She didn’t have a photo of the Bellas, she had a photo of _Chloe_. One that she’d saved from the group chat. Could it mean…. Beca’s phone screen timed out and it went dark.

Chloe looked up, a huge smile on her face, expecting Beca to be grinning back at her shyly. Amy had released Beca from the headlock and everyone was staring at Chloe. But Chloe had eyes only for Beca. Beca, whose hands were balled into fists at her side and whose back was ramrod straight, her shoulders stiff. Her jaw was clenched, her lips thin, her nostrils flared, her eyes wide, and her face somehow both blotchy and pale at the same time.

The smile slid from Chloe’s face, her stomach falling along with it. Beca looked utterly terrified and not at all like someone who was about to tell their crush how they felt. Chloe wanted to punch herself; she’d been wrong. Beca’s straight, and into that Jesse guy. This photo was nothing. Beca probably thought she was the creep for smiling like an idiot at the lock screen.

“I’m – I’m sorry,” Chloe breathed, her own face warming as she held the phone out to Beca, who snatched it up immediately and looked away.

“What was the photo?” Amy asked eagerly.

Beca’s eyes latched back onto Chloe’s pleadingly.

“Uh, it was just of… her and her dad,” Chloe mumbled, inventing wildly.

Beca’s stance relaxed immediately, though her expression turned confused. _Play along_ , Chloe wanted to yell at her.

“Oh, so she _does_ have feelings!” Stacie exclaimed, her voice full of mirth.

Finally, Beca spoke, her voice sounding surprisingly normal, “Yep, that’s me and that’s super lame. Ashley’s turn!”

Beca only had to suffer a little more teasing from the other Bellas before they moved on to guessing Ashley’s lock screen (which turned out to be a picture of her dog), but Chloe was done playing. She watched Beca carefully, wanting to somehow silently tell her that what she’d seen was okay, but Beca refused to meet her eyes. Rather than rejoining the guessing game, Beca sat silently, turning her phone over and over in her hands. As Chloe watched, Beca unlocked the phone and started tapping away at it.

A thrill of unease ran down Chloe’s spine. What if she was changing the lock screen? What if, because Chloe had seen the photo, she’d scared Beca away? In the span of the five seconds between picking Beca’s phone up from the floor and handing it back to her, Chloe’s world had suddenly become very fragile.

It was utter torture, but Chloe forced herself to wait until the Bellas decided to go instead to the empty pool to talk to Beca. As they all stood up, Chloe moved to Beca’s side immediately, resting a hand on an arm.

“Wait, please,” she whispered. She felt Beca stiffen, but she didn’t move from Chloe’s side as the others started filing past, caught up in conversations with one another. Aubrey sent her a suspicious look as she left, one that Chloe ignored.

She and Beca started following the Bellas out the door, lagging behind so they could talk alone.

Beca took a deep breath and said, “Dude, look –”

“I’m your lock screen?!” Chloe asked incredulously, making sure her voice didn’t carry ahead to the others.

Beca flushed lightly and looked down at the ground in front of them as they walked. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Chloe insisted, squeezing Beca’s arm gently. “I thought it was really nice.”

Beca shook her head, looking like she hadn’t heard a word of what Chloe had said. “I already changed it. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she muttered, tugging her arm away.

Chloe drew back her hand, stung. Beca had already changed the photo, just because she’d seen it. She whispered, “It didn’t make me uncomfortable. You didn’t have to change it… I – I liked it.”

Not acknowledging that Chloe had even spoken, Beca walked faster to catch up with the other Bellas, immediately putting space between herself and Chloe. Chloe stared after her, crestfallen. Had she really blown things between them already?

Aubrey slowed to walk beside her. Chloe looked up defiantly, expecting questions about the photo, but instead Aubrey smiled at her crookedly and rested a hand on her back.

“Let’s go to the pool,” Aubrey said softly. “I wouldn’t worry so much if I were you.”

Chloe bit her lip and nodded, though privately she disagreed. She couldn’t help but think that Beca was going to treat her differently following that disaster.

* * *

It seemed that Chloe didn’t have to worry, however. By the time they all gathered at the empty pool to find their sound, Beca was acting her usual self. Chloe was relieved but confused; was Beca still embarrassed by the whole lock screen thing?

When Beca asked her to take the lead on Bruno Mars’ “Just the Way You Are,” Chloe let herself think they might still be okay. When Beca joined in on the singing, she knew they would be.

And then, just as the song was ending, Beca’s phone screen (clearly visible from a front pocket) lit up with a text notification. Chloe’s eyes were drawn to it as blatantly as she was drawn to all of Beca. She almost stopped singing in surprise when she saw a familiar selfie still adorning the screen, proudly on display in a way it had never been before.  

Butterflies erupted in Chloe’s stomach and she almost laughed in the middle of their song. In that instant, she knew she was falling completely in love with Beca Mitchell.

She just hoped that one day, she’d be brave enough to tell Beca.

(Spoiler: she would be.)

(And Beca would say it back.)

 

 


	3. Naked Mole Rats Aren't Endangered - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Tumblr prompt - "That’s my ex-boyfriend/girlfriend.” - “Well, kiss me so they see.”
> 
> Honestly a little ridiculous.

“This is aca-amazing! Or is it aca-mazing? Aca-stounding? Beca, do you know?”

“Legacy,” grumbled Beca while glaring at a passing group of men in Speedos, “you need to calm down. There are way too many people here and it is way too hot for this.”

Chloe leaned into Beca, lacing their fingers together. “She’s excited, babe. And so am I.”

“Yeah, lighten up, Beca,” Stacie added brightly. “This is for charity.”

Beca relaxed slightly at her girlfriend’s touch as they walked across campus, but she still wasn’t happy. Apparently, the entire Barden student population as well as everyone else in the city had decided to support a campus charity event on the hottest day of the year. Fantastic.

“Chlo, what are we doing here?” Beca heard the whine in her own voice, but she cared less about that than about the clearly intoxicated girl that had just bumped into her. She glared at the girl, earning a vague smile in response as the girl wandered away.

Chloe patiently said, “I **told** you. It’s a conservation fundraiser for the East African naked mole rat.”

Beca closed her eyes momentarily, trusting Chloe not to let her trip. “Yes. I know that. But why?”

“Because,” chimed Emily, “they’re cute and we have to save them!”

Beca glanced at the flyer in Lilly’s grasp; the little cover photo of the rodent monstrosity was not what she considered “cute” in any way. Horrendous and mildly alarming, maybe. Definitely not cute.

“And they’re in Kim Possible,” Stacie said as if that made all the difference.

“Come on, Bec,” Chloe tugged on Beca’s arm softly, “you know how much conservation means to me.”

Beca sighed. Chloe had been badgering all the Bellas for days about coming to the fundraiser event with her. Why Barden’s Charity Club for Underprivileged and Neglected Vermin had this much pull on campus was beyond her, but here they were. In the end, Chloe had managed to convince Emily, Stacie, Lilly, and Beca to go, though Beca was only going because it was a Sacred Girlfriend Duty. Everyone else had blatantly refused; Flo had been especially adamant, insisting that naked mole rats had been pests in her home country and it would be best for them to go extinct. She had completely snubbed Chloe’s assurances that naked mole rats were not native to Guatemala.

“Are they even endangered? Like, at all?” Beca tried, wiping away the sweat dripping into her eyes.

“Do you want to see my knife collection?” Lilly whispered while Chloe ignored Beca’s question by pretending to look at something interesting across campus (there was nothing).

“Ooh, they have an obstacle course!” Emily squealed suddenly, stopping in place and quite possibly breaking the sound barrier.

Beca looked to where Emily was pointing. Sure enough, there was a smattering of what she supposed could be considered obstacles set up in the center of campus. It had clearly been arranged by an overeager freshman in the ridiculous conservation club; there appeared to be no cohesive theme to the torture. From where they stood, Beca could see that the course required its victims to run through a field of car tires turned on their sides, crawl under a low net, scale a small, fragile-looking wall that had been erected solely for this purpose, and swing across ridiculously high monkey bars. It was a veritable hell and the mere sight of it made Beca’s hands sweat.

“Yeah,” Chloe said, craning her neck to look at the obstacle course, “it’s one of the fundraisers where teams send someone to compete. One of us should do it!” She turned to look directly at Beca.

Beca’s eyes widened as she took in Chloe’s hopeful expression, Stacie’s predatory grin, Emily’s overwhelming excitement (she was practically vibrating and looked to be on the verge of tears), and the box of matches in Lilly’s hands that had appeared out of nowhere.

Panicking slightly, Beca deadpanned, “I’m **not** doing the obstacle course.”

“Oh, but it’s a fundraiser for –”

“Chloe, I’ll die. I will literally fall and break my neck and die. I’m not going to die for an ugly rat that’s not even endangered.”

Chloe stuck out her lower lip in a small pout. Beca stared back, refusing to show any sign of weakness, but she knew she wouldn’t last long. Surprisingly, though, Chloe’s gaze wavered first.

“Fine,” Chloe puffed, turning away from the obstacle course and leading their group in the opposite direction. “I don’t want you to die.”

“Is Beca not… flexible enough for that?” Stacie asked as they walked, using her most innocent-sounding voice.

“Shut up,” Beca growled over Chloe’s giggle. “I’m plenty flexible. I just don’t wanna die.”

“Uh huh.”

Deciding that she was too dignified to respond, Beca looked around in disgust at the mass of people milling around them in close proximity. Yet another person bumped into Beca, a massive and idiotic-looking jock this time. She turned to shoot him a venomous glare; amazingly, he glared at her just as harshly.

“This is so fun!” Emily was completely beside herself. Chloe agreed enthusiastically. Lilly’s smile widened frighteningly. Stacie pointed and laughed at the bitter expression on Beca’s face.

A trickle of sweat ran down Beca’s back. She desperately wanted to go home.

Suddenly, Chloe’s hand squeezed hers tightly and yanked her to a stop.

“Look!” Chloe exclaimed, nodding her head to the left. “It’s Tom.”

Beca squinted against the glare of the sun, looking past the cloud of smoke emanating from a group of High Notes members. Finally, she spotted Tom standing with several other frat boy buddies, shirtless in the heat. She felt a stab of annoyance when she saw how perfect his sculpted upper body looked; clearly, he’d been working out since The Shower Incident more than two years ago.

“That’s my ex-boyfriend,” said Chloe. For a moment, Beca wondered why she’d said that – obviously Beca knew who Tom was – until she realized that Chloe was talking to Emily.

“Well, kiss me so he sees,” Beca said grumpily, irritated by the huge smile that had broken over Tom’s face at the sight of them. Or, more likely, at the sight of Chloe.

Chloe narrowed her eyes at Beca suspiciously before leaning in to press a soft kiss against her lips. Beca smiled into it; she knew Chloe would never miss the opportunity to kiss her. And **she** would never miss the opportunity to show her hot girlfriend off to the world.

“Hi Chloe!”

Beca’s momentary contentment was shattered by the sound of an overenthusiastic male voice. Chloe pulled away so suddenly that Beca lost her balance and teetered forward, bumping into Chloe’s shoulder. From behind them, Stacie emitted a snort of mirth that she tried (unsuccessfully) to cover with a cough.

“Hey, Tom!” Chloe responded happily to the shirtless boy that had appeared next to them.

“And hey, uh… Brianna?” Tom asked uncertainly, looking at Beca.

Beca grimaced before turning to glare at the object of her annoyance. “It’s Beca,” she muttered, hating how big and brown his eyes were. And how close his bare chest was to them all. Or, more specifically, to Chloe.

“Right, Beca, sorry. So, you two are…?” Tom trailed off, gesturing jovially between Beca and Chloe. Beca thought it made him look moronic.

“Yep! We’ve been together for a few months now,” Chloe said, wrapping an arm around Beca’s waist and pulling her against her side. Instinctively, Beca rested her arm over Chloe’s shoulders, wanting to make their relationship status exceedingly clear to the idiot boy standing in front of them. Stacie coughed again.

“That’s awesome!” enthused Tom. “And I’m assuming these are some other Bellas?” he looked behind Beca and Chloe questioningly.

Emily and Stacie both greeted Tom (Lilly had disappeared into the crowd). Stacie winked flirtatiously, making Tom’s smile widen and his chest puff out even further.

Beca wanted to punch him.

“I heard you guys have been killing it at Nationals the last few years,” continued Tom, “I gotta say Chloe, I’m really happy for you.”

Chloe smiled warmly at Tom and thanked him, sounding surprised but happy. Beca restrained herself from rolling her eyes and settled for grinding her teeth. Stupid Tom and his stupid compliments and his stupid chest.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked in a somewhat higher-pitched voice than usual. Beca’s frown deepened.

“Oh, I’m representing Alpha Gamma Delta for the obstacle course,” said Tom, pointing at the course like they couldn’t see it for themselves. “Gotta show off these guns for charity,” he added, flexing rather unnecessarily. “Do the Bellas have a competitor?”

Beca actually felt Chloe deflate next to her, like some kind of human-sized balloon. It was alarming, to say the least. She glanced over and saw the disappointed look on her face, and beyond her, the absolutely devastated expression on Emily’s.

Beca sighed. She felt an elbow in her side, courtesy of Stacie. She sighed again.

She really hated disappointing Chloe.

“No, actually,” started Chloe, “we don’t –”

“Yes!” blurted Beca, already hating herself. Chloe turned, dislodging Beca’s arm over her shoulders to stare at Beca with a mix of adoration and confusion. “I’m doing that. The obstacle… thing. Of course. Anything for the wombats, right?” she added halfheartedly.

“Mole rats,” Emily stage-whispered.

“Hmm,” Beca grimaced.

There was a very awkward pause as Tom’s eyes flicked between Chloe’s thrilled expression and Beca’s unhappy one.

“Riiiight,” he said slowly, “So, it’s starting soon, we should probably get lined up?”

Beca’s stomach dropped; she hadn’t been expecting to act on her impulse so quickly. Too late now, though. “Yep,” she said, gently detaching Chloe’s arm from around her waist, “let’s, uh, line up, or whatever.”

“Beca, you don’t have to,” Chloe whispered as she started to follow Tom to her demise.

Forcing a smile (that, judging by Stacie’s raised eyebrows, must have looked painful), Beca glanced back and said quietly, “It’s all good, I want to.” It wasn’t totally a lie; Beca did want to show up Tom and prove herself. She just didn’t necessarily want to do it on an obstacle course to benefit ugly, non-endangered rats.

As she walked toward the course’s starting line with Tom, Beca overheard Stacie say, “It’s fine, she wants to prove she’s bigger. If you know what I mean.”

“But she’s so small,” Emily’s confused voice was the last thing Beca heard before she was out of earshot. She sighed yet again.

Glancing back at her, Tom smiled encouragingly as he led her closer to the start of the course. Beca tried not to glare back too obviously. Stupid Tom with his stupid smile and his stupid arms.

Once they reached the course, they were met with a familiar-looking blonde girl. “Hey there!” she said extremely enthusiastically, making Beca take a step back. “If both of you just want to sign this waiver form, releasing Barden from any and all legality regarding injury, maiming, or accidental death! There are paramedics here, but remember, don’t fall unless it’s actually happening!” Oh no. It was rape whistle girl. Beca groaned internally; could this get any worse?

“And it looks like you two are the first ones here, so you can run it against each other!” rape whistle girl practically shouted in excitement as she handed them waiver forms on a clip board.

It got worse. Beca had only wanted to prove she could do the course; she didn’t think she’d actually have to compete against stupid shirtless Tom. She really hadn’t thought this through at all.

Tom signed his form without reading it and turned to look at Beca expectantly. Beca glowered at the waiver, positively seething. Why did she have to get so jealous? She knew that her relationship with Chloe was solid, so why did she feel the need to prove herself in possibly the most moronic way ever?

The rape whistle girl cleared her throat loudly, staring pointedly at the clipboard in Beca’s hands. Taking the not-so-subtle hint, Beca hurriedly scrawled her name on the signature line and handed it back to her.

“Perfect!” the girl cheered. “Time to get started!”

Tom was already on the starting line, stretching his arms to make his muscles pop. Beca looked away, reluctantly moving to stand next to him at the start.

“Good luck, and no hard feelings,” Tom said congenially, reaching out a hand to shake hers.

“Uh huh,” Beca said, grabbing his hand and letting go quickly. She had to beat him.

“Competitors ready!” called rape whistle girl, attracting the attention of people passing by.

Beca turned to the course, taking in the field of tires, the crawling net, and the wall ahead, behind which hid the monkey bars. Great. She took a deep breath; she could do this. It wasn’t that bad, right? She had years of Bella cardio under her belt. She could win. For Chloe. Or, wait, for the sewer rats, or whatever the hell it was. She could win.

“Get set!” A whole crowd had formed to watch them now.

Beside her, Tom had lowered himself to a runner’s crouch. It looked impressive (stupid Tom and his stupid legs), so she imitated him. Time to beat this pretty-boy.

“Yeah Beca, you got this!” a familiar voice shrieked, shattering her concentration. Beca glanced to the side to see Chloe standing along the course cheering her on, looking both parts amused and nervous. Stacie and Emily were beside her – Stacie mimed lifting her shirt to flash her, and Emily had covered her eyes in a nice vote of confidence.

“Go!” screamed the rape whistle girl.

Tom was off like a flash, starting on the course by the time Beca realized what had happened.

“Shit!” she swore loudly, launching herself to the first obstacle, the sideways tires. Tom was already halfway through them by the time she stepped into the first one. She jogged through them as quickly as she could, internally thanking Aubrey’s insistence to “lift those knees, Bellas!” throughout Bella cardio. Her toe caught the edge of a tire once and she heard Chloe cry out as she stumbled, but she managed to catch her balance and made it through the tires relatively unscathed.

She made it to the low-hanging net, Tom already having thrown himself under it. Thankfully, his height and muscle mass (both stupid) were more of a hindrance than a help; he struggled to remain low enough to the ground to successfully crawl under the net.

Sparing a thought to the sorry state her skinny jeans (why the **hell** was she even in jeans in this heat?) were going to be in after this, Beca dropped to the ground to Army-crawl under the net. Knee, elbow, knee, elbow, she made her way across the ground, blood pounding in her ears, muffling the sound of the cheering crowd. She passed Tom less than halfway through with a smirk, then kept going. She finally reached the end, pulling herself out from under the net with a groan.

Beca glanced back to see Tom still struggling with the net. For the first time, she allowed herself to think that she might actually win. She was more than halfway through already!

“Woo, go Beca!” she heard Emily call out. The cheer acted as a shot of adrenaline to her veins; Beca sprinted forward, full of disbelief at how well she was doing, and threw herself at the slanted wall ahead.

Unfortunately, she was a little overenthusiastic; she rammed the wall at full speed and her shoulder bounced off its surface, sending her staggering backward. Clutching her shoulder, she heard Chloe’s sympathetic groan accompanied by the sound of Tom running toward her – he had escaped the net obstacle at last.

“The rope, Beca! Use the rope!” Stacie’s shriek rang out over the crowd, drawing Beca’s attention back to the wall in front of her. Sure enough, there, hanging from the top of the wall were two knotted ropes, obviously meant for use in scaling the obstacle.

Annoyed that she’d missed those the first time, Beca seized one of the ropes and braced her feet on the wall. It wasn’t easy, and she knew Tom was hot on her heels, but she managed to scramble up the slanted wall with the assistance of her rope.

She dropped to the other side, by some miracle without breaking anything, and looked to the final obstacle: the monkey bars. Beca swallowed. She’d always been horrible at monkey bars.

But Tom had reached the top of the wall behind her and Chloe was cheering her on – cheering for **her** , not for Tom, the stupid, really very nice ex-boyfriend – and Beca knew she had no choice.

She stepped forward, preparing to jump to the first one – Jesus Christ, those were high, didn’t they have a step up she could use? – when Tom flew by her out of nowhere. He leapt right to the second bar, bypassing the first and swinging himself forward to the third.

Beca knew she had only seconds to catch up. She flung herself up to the bar, grabbing hold with both hands. Without hesitating, she swung forward, managing to catch the second bar and switch to it with relative ease. That wasn’t so bad. She allowed herself a small smile – she had a chance.

She swung to the third, then the fourth, and was surprised to notice she was almost halfway. She glanced ahead and horror (or maybe sweat) trickled down her spine when she saw that Tom only had three rungs left before the finish. The only way for her to catch up would be to skip bars like he’d done at the beginning. It had looked easy enough, she just needed the momentum.

She could do this.

Beca kicked her legs out, gathering energy. Her eyes locked on the second bar from her and she prepared herself to release. She felt her body reach the peak of the swing, felt her fingertips release one bar and extend for the other and then –

The bar she’d been aiming for slid from her sweaty palms and she was falling, falling, until she landed with a thud on her back, bouncing her head off the ground. The air whooshed from her lungs and her eyes slammed shut automatically.

The next moments were full of hazy confusion. She heard the collective gasp of the crowd, one voice standing out above all the others, then the pounding of feet rushing toward her. She didn’t at all fancy getting trampled, so she forced her eyes open and drew a breath, squinting in the direct sunlight.

The first face she saw was Lilly’s, strangely enough, despite her earlier disappearance. Lilly stooped alarmingly close, her features blurring until Beca felt an unmistakable wetness graze the tip of her nose; Lilly had licked her. Lilly pulled back (thankfully) to clear Beca’s line of vision. Chloe’s anxious face appeared above her, as did Stacie’s, Emily’s, and finally, Tom’s.

“Beca, oh my God, are you okay?” Chloe’s frantic voice filled the space between them. “Did you lose consciousness? Did you hurt your back? Did you break anything?”

“Uh,” said Beca.

“Medic!” bellowed Chloe, directly into Stacie’s ear.

“Chlo, I’m fine,” Beca grumbled, trying to sit up. The last thing she needed was a medic to haul her away on a stretcher and force her to wear one of those awful neck braces.

“Woah there, tiger, go slow,” Stacie reached for her arm, helping to haul her to her feet. Once standing, Beca stumbled a little to the side, but Tom caught her and held her steady against his still-bare chest. It took her a second too long to realize what was happening; when she found herself confronted with all that skin, she jerked away sharply to stand on her own.

Beca looked beyond Emily’s concerned face to see the rape whistle girl pointing a group of bored-looking paramedics in her direction.

“Hey, it’s all good. I’m fine!” Beca called, waving her arm. “You can, like, go away.”

“Okay, but don’t forget, you signed the waiver!” the girl yelled back as the paramedics turned away. Unfortunately, most of the crowd present was still staring at her. Didn’t they have anything better to do?

Beca rolled her eyes. She really just wanted to leave and go home and have Chloe give her a massage. Before she could tell this to Chloe, though, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned.

Tom looked at her apologetically. “Hey, sorry about that,” he said, “If I’d seen you’d fallen, I’d have gone back before finishing.”

“Really, I’m fine,” Beca said, annoyed by how nice and perfect Tom was being. It was rude of him, she thought. “It’s all good.”

“Okay, well, if you’re sure, I’m going back to join my bros,” Tom said, gesturing over his shoulder. “It was great to see you again, Chloe, and I’m happy for you and Beca.” With a nod to Stacie and Emily (Lilly had vanished again), he jogged off as the rest of the crowd dispersed.

A hand smoothed across Beca’s lower back and she relaxed into Chloe’s touch. “You sure you’re okay?” Chloe murmured, slipping her hand into Beca’s

“Yeah, just a little bruised,” Beca replied, trying to seem macho while wincing.

“Just a bruised ego, you mean,” Stacie said with a wry smile.

Emily nodded, “Yeah, Beca, I can’t believe you body-checked that wall without seeing the rope.”

“Thanks, guys,” Beca grumbled as they walked away from the obstacle course.

Chloe smiled and said gently, “Well, you are an idiot. I don’t know why you got so jealous of Tom.”

Beca glared back, affronted, “I wasn’t jealous!”

Chloe looked at her with raised eyebrows; Stacie laughed out loud and Emily looked away pointedly.

 “I… fine. I was jealous,” Beca groaned, embarrassed. “Happy?”

“No!” Chloe burst out, gesturing wildly with her free hand. “You have no reason to be jealous and hurt yourself over it!”

Beca looked at the ground ahead of them as they walked. A Frisbee flew by and nearly took out Emily, who dodged it at the last second. Beca threw a glare in the general direction it came from.

Finally, Beca risked a glance at Chloe and mumbled, “Yeah, well. It’s hard not to be jealous when my girlfriend looks like a model and Tom was being really nice and has all that muscle.”

“He did look yummy,” Stacie supplied most unhelpfully.

“I don’t care what he looks like,” Chloe said firmly. “He isn’t you. You are beautiful and wonderful and perfect, even if you do get jealous. Bec, I love you with all that I am. I chose you for a reason. You have no reason to worry about anyone else.”

Beca smiled a little, unexpected happiness washing through her as she looked down at hers and Chloe’s entwined hands. She had been pretty lame about the whole thing. Tom really seemed like a good guy, and she knew Chloe would never cheat on her.

“Sorry,” she eventually said, “Got carried away.”

Chloe leaned into her, tugging on her hand. “It’s okay, no harm done.” She pursed her lips and added with a wink, “Well, at least I hope not. I need your body in top shape.” Beca immediately felt herself blush.

“Ugh, you guys are so hot,” Stacie whined.

“Stacie!” Beca hissed over the sound of Chloe’s giggle. “There are children present,” she said, gesturing to Emily, who wrinkled her nose.

“It’s okay, Bec,” Chloe soothed, “come here.” And she reached her free hand to turn Beca’s face toward hers for a small kiss. They were in public, so it couldn’t really go anywhere, but it still made Beca’s body hum and her heartbeat stutter. She was never going to get tired of kissing Chloe.

Their moment was shattered by Emily’s excited squeal; Beca broke away to see that she’d spotted a cotton candy cart ahead. Based on the group of people running in a circle around it, she gathered which student organization was running the stand. All proceeds were to go to the naked mole rat, of course.

“Ooh, Beca, can we get some?” Emily begged, practically bouncing on the spot.

Beca sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. Barden’s charity fundraisers were a lot more trouble than they were worth.


	4. Black Sabbath - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Tumblr prompt "Don't do that again! You scared the shit out of me!"
> 
> This is set during Beca's junior year, meaning that Emily isn't here, sadly. Enjoy!

Chloe can remember with borderline-alarming clarity each and every single time she’d had to hold herself back from pinning Beca Mitchell to the nearest wall and smashing their lips together. She’s always surfing at least a small wave of attraction, of course; when Beca looks like _that_ , it’s hard not to be attracted to her. But sometimes, Beca says or does something to send Chloe into overdrive, to make her mind empty and her body scream for Beca’s touch.

Something that isn’t possible when Beca’s in a relationship with Jesse.

However, Beca’s unavailability doesn’t change the fact that sometimes, she does something that makes Chloe want to jump her right then and there. For example:

  1. The instant “No Diggity” fell from Beca’s lips at her first-ever riff-off (the sheer bravery that must have taken astounds Chloe).
  2. When Beca’s eyes met hers over the mashup of _Just the Way You Are_ and _Just a Dream_ (Beca made the Bellas – made Chloe – better).
  3. The time she and Beca had gotten a flat tire on their way to get groceries, and without missing a beat, Beca had hopped out of the car to change it (Chloe remembers the way her arm muscles had popped out as she’d turned the lug wrench).
  4. Every interaction Beca had ever had with a dog (she might pretend to be grumpy, but that girl is a total softie).
  5. And now, when Beca roars into the driveway of the Bella house, a jet-black Harley Davidson motorcycle cradled between her legs (yes, really).



Sure, the rider has a helmet on. But Chloe can tell it’s Beca by the chocolate hair poking from under it and the petite frame wrapped under the leather jacket.

Beca has most definitely pulled up to the Bella house astride a motorcycle.

Chloe’s jaw literally drops, so quickly that it pops. All she can do is stare out the living room window in stunned disbelief, her Tolstoy book completely forgotten in her hands. She hadn’t even known Beca has a motorcycle license.

Apparently, even after two and a half years into their friendship, Chloe still doesn’t know everything about Beca.

The throaty roar of the Harley’s engine cuts off, but not before it draws the attention of Flo, Stacie, and Cynthia-Rose, who had been having lunch in the kitchen. Stacie flies over to the window so eagerly that for a second, Chloe thinks she’s about to smash right through the glass. Cynthia-Rose and Flo manage to restrain themselves slightly more, but they’re still right on Stacie’s heels.

Parting the already open blinds for a better view of Beca, Stacie emits a low whistle, then practically moans, “That’s so hot.”

Nodding in agreement, Cynthia-Rose draws out, “Dammmnnn. It’s a shame I’m taken.” Absentmindedly, she raises a hand and bites down on her own index finger as Flo cranes her neck for a look at Beca on the bike.

Chloe sees all of this in her periphery; she hasn’t been able to tear her eyes away from Beca.

And if she thought that Beca riding the Harley was hot, the image of Beca disembarking from it is positively sinful. Time slows and Chloe’s vision tunnels until she, Beca, and that black motorcycle are the only things in the world; she stares with blatant desire as Beca shifts her weight to her right foot, which is planted firmly on the ground, and lifts her left leg to swing it smoothly (and slowly, so unbelievably slowly) up and over the seat of the bike. Because Beca is such a small person and the Harley is so huge, the move should look ridiculous… but instead, it makes Chloe’s mouth go dry and grip tighten on her book.

Standing beside the Harley, Beca reclaims her hands from the handlebars and moves them casually to the straps of her helmet. Chloe watches closely as her strong fingers work at the buckle, tugging the strap and pulling it through the restraint. A vision of those same fingers working at Chloe’s belt buckle – or at other leather restraints – hits Chloe hard and her breath hitches at the wildly inappropriate (but no less welcome) thought. And when Beca finally pulls off the helmet to reveal porcelain skin, stormy eyes, and long hair (time is moving so slowly that Chloe can count every strand as Beca shakes her hair out) Chloe stops breathing completely.

But Beca’s not done yet. She sets her helmet down on the seat, then grasps the collar of her leather jacket with her right hand while the left eases the zipper down, down her body. Even though Chloe is sitting inside, perched on the very edge of her chair (how did that happen?), knuckles white on her book and lower lip snared between her teeth, she can hear every _snick_ _snick snick_ the zipper makes as Beca drags it down with agonizing purpose. Chloe’s eyes track Beca’s movements until the jacket is completely unzipped, and then her gaze shifts to the low cut of the T-shirt Beca’s wearing. Beca shrugs free of the jacket with a roll of her shoulders, then places it next to the helmet on the motorcycle seat.

Chloe knows she should feel bad about objectifying her best friend. But in that moment, Beca is so unbelievably sexy that it makes heat shoot between her legs and drags a soft, “ _Oh, fuck_ ,” from her lips.

“You wish,” Flo’s snort shatters the illusion and life resumes its normal speed. Chloe looks up at her, flustered, warmth rising from her neck to her face, and knows she’d been caught staring. Ogling.

She’s spared from having to answer Flo’s smug look by the opening of the front door. Chloe hastily rises from her chair, trying (unsuccessfully) to make herself look less hot and bothered. She stands awkwardly half-hidden behind the other three Bellas facing the entryway, but nevertheless feels her face light on fire when Beca turns the corner to see them all watching her.

There’s a beat of silence, during which Beca smirks at her audience. She looks past Stacie, Cynthia-Rose, and Flo to make direct eye contact with Chloe before asking in a low tone, “Can I give you a ride?”

 The breath flies from Chloe’s lungs in an audible squeak, causing Stacie to turn to her in delight. After an embarrassingly long pause during which Chloe’s brain cells struggle to rearrange themselves, she manages to gasp out, “Give… what?”

Beca raises an eyebrow. Chloe doesn’t blame her.

“You know. On my motorcycle. Would you – any of you – like a ride?”

“Oh,” Chloe says softly, hoping that a hole will open in the floor below her feet. Anything to avoid the gleeful looks Flo, Cynthia-Rose, and Stacie are currently exchanging at her expense.

Beca shifts her weight, looking thoughtful. “You know what,” she starts, “maybe never mind. I only have the one helmet, and I don’t feel like scraping any of you off the road if something happens, so… I’ll order another one and we’ll talk then.”

That does it. Beca’s protective streak is what sends Chloe flying over the edge into insanity. The urge to run to Beca, to tear off that shirt, to feel Beca’s skin under her fingers, to shove her tongue in Beca’s mouth rips through Chloe; her fingers twitch and she shifts her weight to move forward when –

“When did you get your license?”

Cynthia-Rose’s voice jerks Chloe back to painful reality – the one where there are other people in the room and Beca is in a committed heterosexual relationship.

“Meh. A while ago,” Beca answers with a shrug, though her eyes never leave Chloe’s face. White hot panic floods Chloe – if Beca guessed what she’d been thinking….

Before Chloe can start hyperventilating, though, Stacie snares Beca’s attention by saying in a sultry tone, “I’d definitely like a ride, Beca. I’m assuming I’d have to wrap my arms around you and hang on tight? Maybe press myself nice and close?”

For an instant, Chloe hates Stacie. Some kind of roaring monster rises in her chest, urging her to lash out, to do anything to keep Stacie’s hands away from Beca’s body, to claim Beca as _hers_ – even though Beca isn’t hers – but then she sees the smallest of smiles lifting the corners of Stacie’s lips. She realizes it’s only a joke, meant to fluster Beca a little, because that’s what Stacie loves to do. The monster in Chloe’s chest goes dormant as suddenly as it had awoken, though leaving her shaken. She knows she’s a jealous person, but still. That was a lot.

Beca on a motorcycle clearly does things to her.

It doesn’t help at all when Beca, instead of blushing or choking over her words, merely bites her lip and leans casually against the door frame leading into the living room.

“You’d have to hold on tight for sure,” she says with quiet confidence, “not everyone can handle that much power between their legs.”

And she winks directly at Chloe before turning to go up the stairs to her room.

The other Bellas laugh and make “ _ooooh_ ” noises, so they don’t notice Chloe as she wobbles her way back to her chair on shaky legs. She takes several deep breaths to calm herself, actually shaking her head side to side in an attempt to clear it. She has reading to do. Even if she’s planning on failing one more time, she does actually want to learn the material.

She forces herself to look back down at the book in her hands. Instead of Tolstoy’s words, however, all she sees is the arch of Beca’s neck as she shakes her hair free and the cool satisfaction in her eyes as she looks at Chloe like she’s the only girl in the world.

Chloe shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

Studying will have to wait.

* * *

By some miracle, Chloe manages to keep Beca’s motorcycle off her mind often enough over the next few weeks that she can function like a normal human being, rather than acting like a horny teenage boy drawn in by all that leather and horsepower. Every now and then, though, Beca revs the Harley unexpectedly or says some offhand comment about weaving around traffic that makes Chloe’s face warm and heart race.

She’s a little annoyed with herself over the whole thing, but she can’t help it; Beca on a motorcycle is hot.

True to her word, Beca had taken each of the Bellas in turns out on the back of the Harley once a second helmet had arrived. She experienced varying levels of success with this; Stacie had loved every second, while both Cynthia-Rose and Amy absolutely despised it – Amy had even forced Beca to let her off and had walked herself home rather than staying on the “deafening death contraption.” Jessica and Ashley had been relatively indifferent, though Jessica knew a surprising amount about motorcycles in general – as it turns out, her dad is a mechanic. Flo had enjoyed the experience, but said she preferred the safety of cars, and as for Lilly… well, Chloe was never sure exactly what happened there, but upon their return to the Bella house, Beca had made it very clear that Lilly would not be allowed on her Harley ever again.

And Chloe would give anything to say that she loved the Harley, and to an extent, it’s true; she adores the speed, the feeling of the wind pressing against her, and the freedom riding the motorcycle brings. More than that, she welcomes having the excuse to wrap her arms around Beca’s waist and told on tight to the warm, solid presence seated in front of her. Beyond all else, though, she loves hearing Beca’s laugh before the wind whips it away; she can’t remember the last time she’s heard Beca laugh like that.

However, she can’t get over how _dangerous_ the whole thing seems. Even though she knows Beca won’t let anything bad happen (she’s an excellent driver), she worries about tipping over or hitting something and losing control or – and this is the most terrifying – getting hit by someone else in a car or truck. She feels too exposed on the motorcycle, and while that is part of the fun, the fear of fiery death takes precedent.

Nevertheless, she’s been on that motorcycle behind Beca more than any of the other Bellas have.

And yet, at the moment, Chloe isn’t thinking about how ridiculously breathtaking Beca looks riding the Harley or how scary the whole thing can be; instead, she’s focused on absorbing as much of _Dr. Zhivago_ as she can before her test next week. Sure, she’s planning on failing the test anyway (Beca has another year left, and so, Chloe does too), but it’s still a really good book.

She’s just started the next chapter when her phone rings. It’s only by chance that she even hears it; normally, she sets her phone to “Do Not Disturb” while she does homework, but she’d obviously forgotten. Instead, the sound of Beca’s latest mix – a mash-up of Taylor Swift’s _I Knew You Were Trouble_ and _Bad Blood_ – permeates the air and shatters her concentration. She glances at her phone to see an unknown number. She almost ignores it, but something tells her to answer.

“Hello?”

A beat, then, “Is this Chloe Beale?”

She frowns, not recognizing the woman’s voice. “Yes, who’s asking?”

“This is Barden Central Hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for a Beca Mitchell. Does this sound correct?”

Chloe’s stomach jolts as if she’s been punched; the air rushes from her lungs and for a moment she can’t even think.

“Miss Beale?” the voice prompts. “Do you know Beca Mitchell?”

Chloe snaps out of her shock, blinking against the dots that appeared in her vision. Clutching her phone tightly, she chokes out, “Y-yes. What – is she okay?”

“She’s been involved in an accident.”

Grateful she’s already sitting on her bed, Chloe feels her legs go numb, as if the previous pang to her stomach has traveled to her limbs. No. Not Beca. Not Beca on her motorcycle, so open and exposed.

“Miss Beale? Are you there?”

Chloe dimly registers that the woman’s talking to her, but it’s as though she’s looking down on herself from above. She sees the phone in her grasp, takes in the stunned and fearful expression on her own face, but all she can hear is a high-pitched ringing, like she’d recently attended a loud concert.

“What?” Chloe finally asks, pulling herself back into her own body with a tremendous effort.

“I said, you may wish to come to Barden Central.” The voice sounds so calm. Chloe is far from calm.

“Is Beca okay?” she hears herself ask again.

It’s the only question in the world that matters.

“I’m afraid I can’t release confidential information on the phone.”

Chloe suddenly despises the woman’s casual tone, as if she doesn’t care that Chloe’s terrified out of her mind. As if she doesn’t care that Beca could be seriously hurt, or even…. All Chloe can see is Beca’s motorcycle torn to shreds, its rider tossed aside and shattered like a China doll.

Beca, not coming back home to her.

“Oh, but – I’ll be there soon.” She hangs up abruptly. Arguing with the woman about confidentiality won’t fix Beca.

For a second, she’s frozen on her bed. She thinks she might be sick and looks around dimly for her trash can. But then she realizes – she’s wasting time! Beca needs her, Beca might be in pain, Beca might be dying.

She has to get to Beca. Her nausea vanishes.

Chloe bolts off the bed, her legs almost giving out as she sends her homework flying. She’s shouting for the Bellas before she even leaves her room. She doesn’t slow down, just keeps yelling for the others. When the confused faces of Ashley and Jessica – apparently the only other Bellas currently in the house – appear, she doesn’t explain, only barks, “It’s Beca – we need to go _now_!” at them. Without pause, she launches herself down the stairs and to the front door, barely remembering to grab shoes, her keys, and her purse.

“Wait!” Ashley catches her arm in a surprisingly strong grip, dragging her to a halt as she’s halfway out the door.

Chloe almost shoves Ashley away for slowing her down, but manages to control herself. She stares at Ashley wild-eyed, wondering what could possibly be more important than getting to the hospital. Getting to Beca.

“Where are we going?” Ashley asks, quick and to the point.

Oh. That is an important detail.

“Hospital,” Chloe manages, fear rising in her throat at the single word.

Surprised concern flashes across both Ashley and Jessica’s features, but they school their features quickly.

“I’ll drive,” Jessica says firmly, reaching for the keys. “Let’s go.”

Even in Chloe’s haste (she practically throws herself out the door and into the passenger seat of her own car), she finds herself appreciating Ashley and Jessica more than ever.

The drive to the hospital is hazy and confused, tainted with terror. Chloe’s grateful that Jessica’s driving; if she’d been the one behind the wheel, she’d probably have caused another accident. They’re somehow driving simultaneously too fast and not fast enough; Chloe dreads getting to the hospital, dreads the news she might be about to receive, but also can’t bear the thought of not being with Beca.

All too soon (and not soon enough), Jessica’s pulling into the guest lot. It’s full, though, and finding parking will be impossible. Chloe only has to make eye contact with Jessica before Jessica says, “Go! Get out and I’ll meet you inside!”

Chloe doesn’t have to be told twice. She fumbles for her seatbelt release, then the door handle, shoves the door away from her, and spills out of the car, almost falling again before she catches herself. Ashley climbs out from the backseat to walk with her, her face grimly determined.

They half-jog into the hospital’s main entrance, Chloe nearly plowing over an elderly woman in her rush. Firing an apology over her shoulder, Chloe approaches the reception desk where a woman (maybe the one on the phone?) types away at her computer.

“Hello,” Chloe says breathlessly, desperate to get the woman’s attention.

“One moment,” the woman says without taking her eyes away from the screen as she types.

Resisting the urge to launch herself over the desk and commandeer the computer, Chloe settles for tapping her foot rapidly on the floor to dispel some of her nervous energy. Ashley reaches forward to touch her on the arm, but even that is only so soothing.

God, she hates how hospitals smell.

Chloe stares hard at the woman’s face, silently daring her to meet her gaze. It’s not until she feels she could have bored a hole into the woman’s forehead with the intensity of her stare that the woman finally looks up at her with mild disinterest.

“Yes?” she asks calmly. It’s definitely the woman from the phone.

“We’re here for Beca Mitchell,” Chloe says in a rush, surprised she can speak around the lump in the back of her throat. “I got a call about her.”

“Hmm. Mitchell… Mitchell…” the woman’s eyes return to the screen. She types, clicks something, scrolls, then clicks again. Pause. Another scroll. Another click. Pause. Scroll. The woman raises the hand not currently scrolling to scratch her nose.

Chloe’s eye twitches.

“We are a bit worried about her,” Ashley nudges much more gently than Chloe would have.

“Hmm,” the woman replies.

“Okay, listen, you –” Chloe starts to explode until the woman levels her with a serious look.

“Miss Mitchell is currently in room 412, awaiting doctor assessment. She was involved in a collision with a pickup truck and is –”

Chloe doesn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence; she’s waited long enough to see Beca. She turns away from the desk, Beca’s room number echoing around the walls of her mind. She doesn’t wait for Ashley, but goes ahead and slams her hand on the elevator call button. Thanfully, the doors slide open immediately and she steps inside, assuming that Ashley will meet up with Jessica and go up together.

As the elevator doors close behind her, Chloe blinks back tears. She can’t cry yet, because that seems like giving up on Beca. A motorcycle versus a pickup truck. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the winner in that scenario. Her hands clench into fists as her panic starts to boil. _Not Beca, anyone but Beca, please._

The elevator drags itself up to the fourth floor, then opens with a deceptively pleasant _ding_. Chloe’s eyes zero in on the room directory; 412 is to the left. She turns that way and starts to walk. Time does that strange liquid thing again, until the walls are quivering around her. She wonders if she might pass out, then thinks idly that at least she’s already at a medical center. _Let it be me instead, let me trade places with her, just not Beca._

She passes 410 on the right, then 411 on the left, which means – yes, there’s 412. The door is open a crack. Chloe sees her own hand reach for the door, knocking once before easing it open to slip inside the white-walled room. She’s terrified of what might be inside that room. _Beca Beca Beca Beca –_

“Finally, Jesus _Christ_ , how long do I have to wait before –” Beca cuts off her tirade the instant her eyes meet Chloe’s. Chloe blinks in shock and jerks to a stop, rooted to the floor. Beca is sitting up on the edge of the bed, dressed in a gown but not connected to the machines next to the bed. She’s got a dark bruise on her right arm, but otherwise seems perfectly fine.

“Uh,” Chloe says. She’d been expecting to see Beca’s broken body lying in a coma and hooked to dozens of different wires. This is not the case.

There’s a beat of awkward silence, then Beca grimaces. “I guess they called you, huh?”

Chloe’s mind catches up with her and relief floods her body. She walks forward until she’s right next to Beca, then pulls her into a crushing hug. “Don’t ever do that again! You scared the shit out of me!” she says fiercely into Beca’s shoulder even as she inhales her familiar perfume.

“Chlo, I’m totally fine,” Beca insists, and Chloe can almost _hear_ her rolling her eyes, but Beca still returns the hug with equal force.

Chloe pulls away after a moment, blinking rapidly. “Why the _hell_ did they call me and tell me to come here, then?” she asks, equal parts angry and relieved.

Beca shrugs apologetically. “I don’t know, maybe they have to call an emergency contact in an accident? The doctor has to come in and see if I have a concussion or anything.”

“You mean you haven’t even been checked over?” Chloe asks incredulously.

“Nah. You’re faster than the actual doctor,” Beca adds with a grin. “Didn’t they tell you that at the desk? What did you think was happening?”

Ashley’s voice suddenly comes from behind her: “Yeah, she didn’t exactly give them a chance to tell her anything.” Chloe glances back to see Ashley and Jessica had joined them in the room. Ashley continues, “She heard the room number and came flying up here like a bat out of hell before the receptionist could explain.”

“Probably ran over a kid on the way, too,” Jessica adds, looking immensely amused. Chloe feels her face warm and she looks at her feet, only then noticing that in her haste, she had put two different shoes on. Awesome.

“Chlo?” Beca’s unexpectedly soft voice makes her look up. “I’m sorry you were worried. I’m okay, though, seriously.”

“Well, what did you expect me to think?” Chloe asks, feeling foolish and defensive. “I just got a call from the hospital saying that you were in an accident, so of course I –”

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Beca interrupts. “It really means a lot.” Something in her expression, some sort of tenderness mixed with something that Chloe can’t quite identify relaxes Chloe immediately. She hears a soft click behind her; Ashley and Jessica left the room to wait outside and shut the door behind them.

“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” Chloe whispers into the space between them, her fingers ghosting over the bruise on Beca’s arm.

Beca smiles at her gently. “I’m okay,” she repeats. “It was the other guy’s fault. He pulled out in front of me and I ran right into the side of his truck bed,” she winces, rolls out her right shoulder, then continues. “I fell, and I’m okay, but Black Sabbath went flying off in a different direction and another car ran her over. She’s very much not okay.”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “Black Sabbath?” she asks. “Her?”

Beca’s cheeks tinge pink, but she meets Chloe’s stare and says proudly, “That’s what I named her. Yes, her.”

Chloe smiles, then frowns. “So… she can’t be fixed.”

Beca pulls another face. “No, it didn’t look like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, actually,” Beca dismisses, waving a hand. “I’m not sure… well, it was more of a, uh, mid-college crisis. I mean, I loved it, but… I don’t need a new one for a while.”

Chloe tries valiantly to hide her own disappointment; she wishes suddenly she’d taken a photo of Beca on that motorcycle. You know, for the memories.

Beca interrupts the momentary fantasy when she asks tentatively, “Um, did you tell my dad? Or Jesse?”

Chloe’s stomach pangs with guilt; she’d honestly forgotten all about Dr. Mitchell and Jesse. “No…” Chloe shakes her head slowly, “should I have?”

“No!” Beca exclaims, so vehemently that Chloe’s startled. Beca rubs a hand over the back of her neck, then says, “I mean, sorry, it’s just. They don’t need to know. Dad would freak out, and Jesse… well. He never really saw the point of it. The Harley. And, well. We’ve been fighting a lot and, uh.” She shrugs again, looking immensely awkward and uncertain.

“Bec, I had no idea,” Chloe says once she finds her voice. She hopes she manages to keep her petty satisfaction at bay – she knows something about Beca that Jesse never will. “Are you two… are you okay?”

Beca shrugs almost indifferently. She refuses to meet Chloe’s eyes. Undeterred, Chloe reaches to envelop one of Beca’s hands in hers and squeezes gently.

Beca exhales slowly, tracing her thumb over the back of Chloe’s hand, before she glances up and whispers so quietly that Chloe has to lean in to hear her, “It’s… Chlo… I think I might be –”

“Hello Beca!” a loud female voice startles them both, and Beca yanks her hand away from Chloe’s as if she’d been stung. Though they hadn’t heard a knock or the door open, they both turn to see a woman looking at Beca expectantly. She smiles and says, “I’m Dr. Lorenz, and I’ll be checking up on you before we can release you today, okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Beca manages, clearly flustered and looking anywhere except at Chloe.

Chloe looks back and forth between Beca and Dr. Lorenz until it occurs to her that she should wait outside to give Beca some privacy. She glances to Beca one last time, trying to search her face for whatever it was she’d been about to say, but Beca isn’t looking at her. Instead, she stares down at her lap, chewing on her lower lip.

Chloe swallows hard and says, “I’ll… just wait outside?”

Beca doesn’t look up. Dr. Lorenz merely smiles at her tiredly. Utterly perplexed, Chloe leaves the room to join Ashley and Jessica out in the hallway. She closes the door behind her and sinks down into a chair next to Ashley.

“How is she?” Jessica asks from Ashley’s other side.

“She’s good,” Chloe replies vaguely, her thoughts running circles in her mind. In the past hour, she’d gone from rushing to what she thought might be a dying Beca to having a normal conversation with her to now wondering if Beca’s about to break things off with Jesse.

She needs time to think.

Chloe knows then that she won’t be getting anything else done for the rest of the day. Her mind is too preoccupied with Beca and her now-questionable future with Jesse to concentrate on anything else.

That’s okay, though. It’s not like she needs to study Russian Lit anyway; not when the opportunity she’s been waiting for might finally be within her grasp.

 


	5. Dangerous - M

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A spin-off on the last motorcycle prompt. This is pure smut, actually no plot whatsoever but with the added motorcycle imagery from the last chapter. So, yeah. If you don't want to taint the motorcycle fic, look away now! I also want to give a shout-out to Redlance's excellent A Moment's Reprieve fic, which inspired part of this. Um, pretty NSFW stuff ahead.

_If she thought that Beca riding the Harley was hot, the image of Beca disembarking from it is positively sinful. Time slows and Chloe’s vision tunnels until she, Beca, and that black motorcycle are the only things in the world; she stares with blatant desire as Beca shifts her weight to her right foot, which is planted firmly on the ground, and lifts her left leg to swing it smoothly (and slowly, so unbelievably slowly) up and over the seat of the bike. Because Beca is such a small person and the Harley is so huge, the move should look ridiculous… but instead, it makes Chloe’s mouth go dry and grip tighten on her book._

_Standing beside the Harley, Beca reclaims her hands from the handlebars and moves them casually to the straps of her helmet. Chloe watches closely as her strong fingers work at the buckle, tugging the strap and pulling it through the restraint. A vision of those same fingers working at Chloe’s belt buckle – or at other leather restraints – hits Chloe hard and her breath hitches at the wildly inappropriate (but no less welcome) thought. And when Beca finally pulls off the helmet to reveal porcelain skin, stormy eyes, and long hair (time is moving so slowly that Chloe can count every strand as Beca shakes her hair out) Chloe stops breathing completely._

_But Beca’s not done yet. She sets her helmet down on the seat, then grasps the collar of her leather jacket with her right hand while the left eases the zipper down, down her body. Even though Chloe is sitting inside, perched on the very edge of her chair (how did that happen?), knuckles white on her book and lower lip snared between her teeth, she can hear every_ snick snick snick _the zipper makes as Beca drags it down with agonizing purpose. Chloe’s eyes track Beca’s movements until the jacket is completely unzipped, and then her gaze shifts to the low cut of the T-shirt Beca’s wearing. Beca shrugs free of the jacket with a roll of her shoulders, then places it next to the helmet on the motorcycle seat._

* * *

Beca’s hand is warm and solid as she leads Chloe up the stairs. Chloe’s head swims and she can’t quite believe this is happening. The way Beca had captured her hand and dragged her away from the others in the living room sent her heart racing. And the way Beca looks back at her now, like she’s going to positively devour her, makes Chloe’s knees turn to jelly.

This is dangerous.

Everything had changed. The instant Chloe had surged forward to press Beca against the door frame, the world had shifted. Her self-control had snapped in half when Beca walked into the Bella house after pulling up on that motorcycle. She had lunged past Stacie, Flo, and Cynthia-Rose, who had melted away as if they weren’t even there. She’d rushed at Beca, had shoved her hips back into the doorframe, had pressed close, had thrown their lips together. Beca had responded instantly, pulling her in, groaning at the first touch of their tongues. Chloe had acted on instinct, pressing her thigh between Beca’s and moving it _up_ – Beca jerked, breaking the kiss, and had shoved Chloe away. Only to grab her hand and turn purposefully toward the stairs.

And now here they are, climbing those stairs, headed for a bedroom.

Chloe can’t quite believe it. Can’t believe that Beca wants this – wants her. It doesn’t make sense. It’s not possible.

And yet. Beca has reached the landing, but instead of leading her up another floor to the attic bedroom, she pulls Chloe left down the hallway. For a second, Chloe sort of resents being led to her own room, but then they’re inside and she only registers the sound of the door slamming before she’s pressed against it.

“I couldn’t wait anymore,” Beca growls, “and you don’t have a roommate.”

Then, Beca’s lips are on hers, her hands cupping Chloe’s face. Kissing Beca is like nothing Chloe has ever experienced; Beca puts everything she has into her kisses, snatching Chloe’s breath away. When a tongue swipes over her lips, Chloe’s hands fly from Beca’s hips to the back of her shoulders, trying to hold her even closer. Her fingers scrabble over the leather of Beca’s jacket – didn’t she take that off already? – but then teeth nip at Chloe’s lower lip and her mind goes blank.

The whine that escapes Chloe draws a soft sigh from Beca. The hands on Chloe’s face drop, teasingly brushing the sides of her breasts as they slide down her body, making Chloe choke on air. At the same time, Beca’s lips move from her mouth to trail a burning path down her jaw and to her neck.

Chloe lets her head drop back onto the door with a thud and weaves her hands into dark tresses, holding Beca in place. The soft wetness of a tongue dragging along her neck makes her gasp; the sting of teeth at her pulse point makes her keen.

“Bec, y-yes, just like that,” she urges, her eyes rolling back.

And when Beca reaches her earlobe, giving it a gentle tug with her teeth, Chloe’s hips shunt forward and her hands turn to claws in Beca’s hair. Beca grunts in surprise and – _nononono_ – pulls back.

Beca draws in a shaky breath, her eyes hooded, and Chloe is terrified that she’s going to stop, that she’s going to say they can’t do any more, and that will _kill_ Chloe because she feels like she’s going to die if they _don’t_ keep going but Beca’s shaking her head and reaching to detangle Chloe’s hands from her hair and –

And she’s pinning Chloe’s wrists to the door above their heads and leaning in to whisper against Chloe’s lips, “You’re breaking my concentration.”

Chloe’s legs weaken at the raw need in Beca’s voice; she feels like she’s losing her mind because there’s **no way** this is actually happening. She doesn’t believe it.

It’s dangerous to believe.

But then Beca’s mouth is on her neck again and her wrists are still pinned above her and her body is on **fire**. She feels Beca working at the same spot just below her jaw, nipping, sucking, and licking at the skin there until she knows she’s going to have a massive mark. She doesn’t care in the slightest – she wants people to see it and to know what it means. She wants everyone to know it’s from Beca.

It seems Beca has the same thought. “You’re _mine_ ,” she breathes after releasing the skin there.

“You’re mine, too,” Chloe manages to reply between gasps, emotion welling in her chest.

Beca hums, sliding one hand down from Chloe’s wrists to let her fingertips brush down an arm, trace over a collarbone, and finally pass over the peak of a breast. Chloe sighs at the fleeting touch and she arches, wanting more, but Beca’s hand keeps moving down, around Chloe’s hip to the outside of her thigh until Beca crashes their lips together again in a bruising kiss.

It’s really not fair. Chloe’s senses are overwhelmed – Beca’s wandering touch on her thigh, Beca’s tongue in her mouth, Beca’s groans and whimpers in her ears, even the smell of Beca’s perfume in her nose. Her fingers twitch, eager to reach out and touch Beca in return, but Beca’s other hand is still holding both of hers in place above them.

Perhaps sensing her desire, Beca presses even closer until there’s no space between them and Chloe can feel everywhere their bodies touch. Beca’s fingers scrape down and back up the outside of her thigh, as if waiting for permission to slide between her legs. Chloe’s hips buck involuntarily at the thought and she lifts her leg slightly, wondering if Beca wants her to wrap it around her waist.

Beca laughs, a delighted sound of surprise that makes a fresh wave of affection for her wash over Chloe. She can’t remember the last time she’s heard Beca laugh like that. Beca finally releases her wrists and puts both hands on Chloe’s hips to press her firmly against the door (though how much more strain the door can handle, Chloe doesn’t know). Chloe drops her arms to rest on Beca’s shoulders, confused, until Beca shifts her stance.

A thigh moves smoothly between her own and presses up.

Chloe gasps sharply and her body jumps. She’s so shocked that she actually glances down to make sure she isn’t imagining it. But she isn’t. Even though her mind says her eyes are lying, even though she can’t possibly believe it, Beca’s thigh is definitely between her legs. And then Beca tugs on her hips, pulling her along that thigh in a smooth motion.

Chloe moans and her hands clutch at Beca’s shoulders, holding tight as Beca encourages the rolling of her hips. For a second, Chloe thinks her legs are going to give out completely, but then Beca’s lifting with her thigh, pressing into her with every tug. Chloe gives in and lets herself grind down, riding Beca’s thigh, a knot starting to form low in her stomach.

Something in her snaps; she starts tugging at Beca’s jacket, trying to lift it away and off – she needs to feel Beca against her, needs to see her. Beca figures out what she’s doing and – _nonono_ – pulls away. Chloe wants to cry out at the loss of contact, but then Beca grabs her hands and moves them to the zipper of the leather jacket.

Everything slows. Fingers trembling, Chloe tugs on the zipper, easing it down. A part of her wants to rip it down, to strip the jacket away from Beca’s body as quickly as possible, but she forces herself to draw out the moment. She tugs the tab down so slowly that she can hear every _snick snick snick_ the zipper makes as it falls to reveal the low-cut T-shirt underneath.

Once the jacket is unzipped, she lets her hands wander under it to Beca’s stomach, then around to her sides to brush her back over her shirt. She feels Beca’s every jagged gasp, feels her skin twitch and jump where she’s ticklish.

“Chlo… please…” the strain in Beca’s voice catches her by surprise; Chloe looks up to see something like desperation in Beca’s face.

She really, really can’t believe this is happening.

Everything speeds up again. A bolt of electricity shoots between Chloe’s legs and she shoves the jacket off Beca’s shoulders, where it catches until Beca reaches behind herself to pull it off the rest of the way. She casts it aside haphazardly and Chloe hears it knock something over, but she doesn’t care, because now Beca’s taking off that T-shirt and tossing it right behind her jacket.

The sight of Beca right then, wearing only jeans and a red, lacy bra as if she’d been planning this, sends Chloe’s mind spiraling. She lunges, hands grasping at Beca’s hips, and backs her up into the next solid surface she can find. She ends up pinning Beca to her dresser, the lotion bottles on top tipping over with the impact. Beca hisses when her back hits the wood, but in the next instant, her fingers are fumbling with Chloe’s blouse.

Chloe surges forward, reattaching their lips even as she feels Beca working her blouse out from where it’s tucked into her pants. The rush of cool air when Beca tugs it free makes her shiver and sigh. Immediately, fingers ghost under the material to trail along her back, then her sides, and Chloe **knows** her skin must be melting away from where Beca’s touched.

Chloe moves her mouth to Beca’s neck, fully intending to leave a dark mark on the skin there to match her own, but the first scrape of her teeth draws a strangled gasp from Beca, and suddenly her shirt is being lifted. She steps back, helping Beca to take her shirt off the rest of the way until they’re both in their bras.

She leans forward again and the first brush of their stomachs together tears a groan from her throat. Beca feels amazing against her, and Chloe wraps her arms around her and pulls her close, desperate to get Beca into her very skin. Beca’s hands wander up and down her back, then skim over a ticklish spot; reflexively, Chloe jerks, and Beca’s hips buck forward in response.

“Bec –” Chloe grunts, stunned at how good it feels to have Beca pressing into her like that. Beca whimpers and fingers fumble with the clasp on Chloe’s bra until she feels it give. Without thinking twice, Chloe eases Beca away from the dresser to unclasp her bra, and then they separate to remove the garments completely.

Chloe’s eyes land immediately on Beca’s heaving chest, taking in as much detail as possible in case this is the only time she gets to look. However, her attempt to memorize the view is interrupted when Beca presses a hand against her back and stoops forward to wrap her mouth around straining skin.

Crying out, Chloe arches into Beca and tangles her fingers in her hair, holding her in place. It’s almost too much too early, but the fact that Beca Mitchell is worshipping her body shoves away all other sensation besides delirious pleasure. And when Beca switches to the other side, Chloe feels as if she’s died and gone to heaven.

Except she needs to touch Beca, too, so she pulls Beca up and just smiles in response to the question in her eyes. She moves her hands to Beca’s chest, first tracing over her collarbones with light fingertips and watching Beca’s eyes flutter. Biting her lip to keep from making sounds of her own – she wants to be able to hear Beca – Chloe takes a deep breath through her nose and trails her fingers down over skin she’s been thinking about since the Baker Hall showers.

Beca’s response to her touch is astonishing; she gasps and presses forward even as Chloe moves closer to reunite their lips. She drags her thumbs over taut peaks again and again, causing small mewling noises to spill from Beca’s mouth and into her own. Fireworks erupt in Chloe’s mind with each noise Beca makes and she wants to draw as many of those sounds out as possible. Even as Chloe’s head starts to spin from lack of air, Beca pulls away from the kiss to rest their foreheads together, her breath fanning over Chloe’s face as she pants.

She guides Chloe’s hands away from her chest and instead around to her back, her own hands moving along the same path on Chloe’s skin. They fall into a sort of hug, chests touching and igniting sparks in Chloe’s stomach. As it had before, everything slows.

“Why’d you stop?” Chloe asks raggedly, not understanding.

It takes Beca a moment to answer, and when she does, it’s in broken gasps. “It’s…Chlo… I think I might be in love with you.”

Chloe’s pretty sure her heart stops beating. Beca’s words trigger some sort of _something_ in her mind, maybe a memory just out of reach, but she ignores that in favor if the present moment. Beca. In love with her.

For the first time, Chloe believes this is really happening.

There’s no question of where this is going now, no question of it being some sick joke. Something shatters in her, then reassembles, as if Beca had somehow broken her with those words and then put her back together.

She and Beca move at the same time. She cups Beca’s face at the same time Beca flips their positions so that Chloe’s the one pressed against the dresser as their tongues meet over and over. Chloe can’t think about anything besides _Beca, Beca, Beca_ , and how right this feels, so she’s confused when, for a strange moment, Beca seems to be getting shorter. Chloe reluctantly pulls away and forces her eyes open in time to see Beca dropping to her knees in front of her.

Heat shoots between Chloe’s legs like lighting and she has to reach behind herself to plant her hands on the dresser, needing some kind of anchor. She has no idea what her face looks like, but she imagines she must look dazed. Beca only smiles up at her gently.

“Can I?” she asks, and Chloe almost wants to cry. She feels like she’ll combust if Beca doesn’t.

Not trusting her voice, Chloe merely reaches for Beca’s hands and guides them to her belt buckle.

_This is really happening._

And the sinful image of Beca’s lithe fingers working at the buckle, grasping at the leather and tugging it through the restraint, makes Chloe’s center throb almost painfully. Beca makes quick work of it, unbuckling the belt and popping the button on Chloe’s jeans so casually that it makes Chloe’s heart jump to her throat.

Beca eases down the zipper on her jeans, leaning forward to press a single kiss against the black underwear revealed. Chloe gasps and her jaw clenches at the minimal contact; she runs a hand desperately through her own hair, feeling as though Beca’s driving her insane.

Beca glances up at her, her expression pained, as if she’s holding herself back, and Chloe is seized with the urge to get Beca’s pants off, to press their bodies together fully and end the frustration.

So, she does. She draws Beca back up, and the next moments pass in a frenzied blur.

She remembers fumbling for the button on Beca’s jeans.

She remembers Beca’s hands brushing her bare thighs as Beca liberated her of her own pants.

She remembers Beca practically throwing her onto the bed.

She remembers basking in every inch of skin revealed as Beca stripped in front of her.

And now, she _feels_ Beca nestled between her open legs, smirking down at her. She _feels_ Beca against her, hot and wet, rocking into her. Chloe _feels_ her own body drawing tight, preparing to snap, as Beca leans down over her, their skin sliding together. Chloe closes her eyes as she prepares herself to feel Beca’s lips on hers, to feel Beca’s hand sliding down between them, to feel Beca’s fingers dipping down and skimming along –

A shocking, blaring noise rips through her mind.

Chloe’s eyes fly open and she jerks awake violently. For a second, she’s completely disoriented, the sound of the car horn that had woken her fading from her ears. She lies on her back for a moment, angry at whoever had released such an obnoxious sound – don’t they realize it’s the middle of the night? – before she remembers her dream.

Beca.

And. _Oh_.

Chloe sits up in bed so quickly she’s surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. She looks around her dark room frantically, hopefully, but she’s completely alone.

She falls back with a tired sigh, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Her sheets are tangled down by her feet, shoved away by her tossing and turning. She leaves them there; her body is still ridiculously overheated.

It had all felt so real.

Soft lips against hers. Hot skin under her fingertips. A mouth on her breast. Beca’s body above her, grinding down.

Beca, wanting her. Beca, in love with her.

Something hot coils low in Chloe’s stomach at the thought. Her legs shift, and she squeezes her thighs together tightly; she has to press her lips together to stop the sudden whimper elicited by the simple movement.

She realizes just how real the dream had felt.

She’s overwhelmed with the urge to reach down and finish the dream. It surprises her, how badly she wants to. Her hand is already traveling south before her logic kicks in and she pauses. She **knows** how inappropriate it would be to give in to her body, because she knows exactly who she would be imagining. It doesn’t seem right to make Beca the unknowing star of a late-night fantasy brought on by some crazy (but wonderful) dream. But then her center starts to ache, and she remembers how often she’s done this before and that really, it’s too late now to consider the morality of it when Beca’s already played the main character of her fantasies once that night.

And just like that, her will crumbles into dust.

As if it had ever really been an option to not give in. (If she’s honest with herself, she’d known this would happen the instant she remembered the dream.)

(This is dangerous.)

With a sigh that both settles and invigorates her, Chloe closes her eyes to see Beca. She’s lying stretched out beside Chloe, her gaze as dark and intense as it had been in the dream. Chloe sighs again, smiling blissfully at the sight of Beca in her bed again. She **feels** Beca’s fingers playing with her own, smoothing over the back of her hand as lips brush against the tip of her ear. Chloe shivers; even in her mind, Beca’s touch drives her insane.

“Now, where were we?” Beca’s voice is husky and low, filled with promises of things to come.

The lips at Chloe’s ear move to press a kiss under her jaw at the same time nails lightly drag up her arm to trace the pattern of her sleep shirt at her shoulder. Chloe’s toes curl into the mattress and her heart flies to her throat. She feels Beca smile against her neck as she answers her own question. “Oh, I remember now… do you want me to keep going? So I can touch you?”

Chloe’s breath catches in her throat audibly, making Beca laugh. Gasping in the suddenly airless room, Chloe finally manages to breathe out a shaky, “Yes.”

Lips again press into the side of her neck, and Chloe feels the fingers on her shoulder trace over her collarbone, dipping under the neckline of her shirt momentarily before they draw a line down between her breasts. Beca’s hand descends further to smooth over her stomach, drawing a shudder from deep within Chloe.

“Do you like that?”

She can only nod at Beca’s question, overwhelmed. Beca laughs again, sounding both awed and amused. Her touch keeps trailing around Chloe’s stomach, then up between her breasts, then back down teasingly, never reaching to where Chloe needs her.

“Beca, please…” she whispers into the darkness, fingers bunching the fitted sheet beneath her.

She feels Beca shift, is sure that the bed dips with the movement, and turns to see Beca propped up on an elbow and looking down at her.

“Sometimes,” Beca says softly, her eyes turning gentle, “you make me crazy. Sometimes, it’s all I can do to stop myself from…” and the touch finally moves up from her stomach to trail over the peak of a clothed breast almost lazily. Chloe’s mouth drops open silently and she arches into the touch, gasping when the pressure there increases.

Again and again, she feels the phantom brush of fingers against her, prodding and kneading, accompanied by the feel of Beca’s breath ghosting down over her face. She feels another wave crash between her legs and her body rolls in search of friction as a shiver travels from her center and spools outward. Chloe’s hands curl into fists, her fingertips burning with longing to reach to someone they can’t touch.

The bed shifts again, and Chloe is sure she feels Beca’s weight settle on top of her hips, a knee on either side, pressing her down into the bed. She chokes down her groan, knowing she has to be quiet, but she can’t stop her hips from tilting up into Beca’s. Beca _does_ groan, a deep, vulgar sound that ignites Chloe’s skin and sends arousal pooling between her thighs.

She sees every detail of Beca’s face, taking in the softness of her eyes and the gentle smirk on her lips. “I know how much you want me,” she hears Beca say breathlessly, her touch sliding from Chloe’s breasts back down to her stomach. “I see it every time you look at me.”

Chloe squirms under Beca, the throbbing between her thighs becoming desperate. Fingers slip under the hem of her pajama shirt and she melts, unable to do anything but wait. “Why do you think I bought the motorcycle?” Sure fingers travel north, circling her belly button before skimming higher. “It’s for you.” They brush the sides of her ribs, making her draw in heaving breaths. “Everything has always been for you.” They draw over taut peaks repeatedly, pulling harsh gasps from Chloe with each swipe.

“Bec – I’m so – I need –”

“Shh. It’s okay.” Beca looms over her, eyes alight and expression soft. “I won’t make you wait much longer.” And Chloe is sure that the presence above her is solid and real, as she feels Beca shift her weight to bend forward and hover over her. Beca’s hair falls around their faces, shielding them from the rest of the world, and it’s so easy for Chloe to lose herself in the kiss when Beca finally gives it to her. It’s so easy for Chloe to detangle her fingers from the sheets and weave them through Beca’s hair. She can feel its softness, can smell Beca’s shampoo, can swallow the sounds Beca lets loose when Chloe rocks up into her. She trails her own hands down over Beca’s shoulders and back, not wanting to miss anything or forget how vibrant this is.

In the moment, this is real.

This is dangerous.

But when Beca pulls back and the words, “I wish I could feel you,” fill the space between them, Chloe shoves her worries aside. This time, she can’t stop the whine that escapes her lips as her hips cant upward uselessly. Smiling, Beca slides off her and Chloe’s hands fall to rest on her own stomach, continuing the trails Beca’s had made. Her body tenses then relaxes as she snares her lower lip between her teeth, head lifting off the pillow an inch before dropping back down.

She’s sure she feels Beca pressing against her side again, staring down at her. When a touch lands on the outside of Chloe’s thigh, she shudders and her entire body clenches; she can’t remember the last time she’s been this worked up, and her self-control is wearing thin. She knows this won’t last much longer, as much as she wants it to.

“How much do you want me?” the question makes Chloe’s back arch and her hips jerk.

She chokes back a moan, then breathes out her answer: “More than you could ever know.”

The hand on her thigh slides over to trace along the inside hem of her shorts, leaving twitching skin in its path.

“Why don’t you take those off? So I can see?”

Chloe thinks she’s going to explode; her body is wound so tightly that she knows it’s only going to take the smallest brush of fingers to do the job. She grabs the waistband of her shorts and shoves down, sitting up slightly to shimmy them down to her ankles before taking them off completely and dropping them beside her bed. She lays back down, hands resting again on her stomach, her body thrumming with anticipation.

“Let me watch you. Please.” Beca sounds breathless now, her voice hoarse and dripping with need. Chloe lets one hand trail down, down to land between her legs and she presses the flat of her fingers against herself. She bites her lip again to muffle her own sighs, but Beca gets to be as loud as she wants; Chloe feels the vibration of Beca’s low moan from next to her as she rubs at her underwear, feeling wet heat even through the cotton.

“Chloe…” it’s a whisper, but it still shatters the earth. Chloe hears herself whimpering as she presses harder over the fabric, three fingers now circling. Her other hand latches onto her pillow so tightly she’s amazed she hasn’t torn a hole in her pillowcase.

From next to her, she hears Beca’s rapid breathing, can picture her dark eyes, flushed face, and desperate expression, just like she remembers from the dream. That image makes her give in; Chloe pulls her hand back, only to find the waistband of her underwear before sliding under it and pushing down.

Her breath hitches and her body jolts when her fingers are coated in hot wetness; she’s more than ready. Her touch drifts up and down, circling and stroking, beyond her conscious control. She can’t stop the small noises and gasps now as her hand moves against her.

“Just like that,” she hears (or maybe she says, she isn’t sure anymore), and her hips lift up against her hand. She imagines it’s Beca, pretends there’s a solid and familiar body above her to rock and writhe against, and her hips start to move of their own accord as her fingers circle with increasing pressure.

She hears her own breaths, ragged and sharp, and over the sound of her pants, a whispered, “I want to move inside you.”

Chloe chokes back a cry as her hips jerk, muscles tightening and relaxing. Her fingers stutter in their movements, but only for a moment before she lets them drift down further and into soft heat. Her other hand releases the pillow to caress her chest and stomach almost idly.

“God, I want to taste you.”

Chloe’s body buzzes and her mouth falls open; she feels drunk. It’s so close, she knows, like a forgotten word on the tip of her tongue. She just needs some reminder, some final push to send her tumbling over into the bright abyss. Her hips are rocking now, and her is hand moving, pushing and pulling, stroking and rubbing with a mind of its own.

She feels so close that she wants to scream, but forces herself to stay quiet, locked in limbo. There’s a part of her hanging on, not letting herself fall, wishing that it really were Beca with her, in her, knowing that when she finishes, it’ll all disappear. But then she hears Beca yet again.

 “It’s okay,” her favorite voice says gently. “You can do it. It’s still for me. It’s okay.”

Chloe’s hips lock in place even as her fingers continue to move. It starts at her center and radiates out; she feels herself clench, feels her legs stiffen and back seize, her free hand ball into a fist and brow furrow. She’s hanging there for a moment until, with one final press of her hand, she falls.

A sonic boom crashes through her in pulses, coating her insides with wave after wave of pleasure as her hips jerk wildly and her back arches, heels digging into the mattress. She turns her face at the last second, forcing her cries into her pillow, muffling them. Her fingers still move between her legs, prolonging it as much as possible until she gives out, melting into the bed.

After, her body hums and her chest heaves in search of air. She slowly pulls her hand back from her underwear and lets her legs fall closed to one side. She lies there for a moment, chasing the rapidly fading thrill until her heartbeat slows. She opens her eyes for the first time since this all began and stares at the ceiling, not wanting to look around her room. Not yet. Even though she knows it to be the case, she doesn’t want to see how alone she is.

She wants to hold onto Beca for another minute, another second, another instant. Anything to keep Beca’s words in her mind and hands on her body. She wants to remember what it’s like for Beca to be hers.

She knows this is dangerous.

But she can’t help it.


	6. The 12 Times They Said "Stay Awake" - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Tumblr prompt "Stay awake." I low-key forgot about PP3, so ignore that. Also, if you don't want your heart torn out, stop after segment 11. Also, warning for character death. Sorry about that.

  1. After Movie Night



“I can’t believe you agreed to watch ‘Psycho’ with them,” Beca said sternly, her hands on her hips as she stared at the lump under the covers – under _her_ covers.

“It’s a classic,” came Chloe’s muffled reply.

“But you hate scary movies!”  Beca huffed, throwing her arms up in the air. “And ‘Psycho’ is, like, _the_ scary movie. It’s Hitchcock, for Christ’s sake!”

A low groan filled the air and the lump on Beca’s bed seemed to shrink; Beca pictured Chloe curling even more tightly into herself under the covers. She sighed.

“And you’re in my bed because…?” she asked, already knowing exactly how the night was going to go.

“Mmph.”

A mixture of annoyance and pity washed over Beca. She’d been looking forward to getting a good night’s sleep after the long week she’d had, but by the look of things, that wasn’t going to happen. On the other hand, she hated seeing Chloe in distress. Even if it was kind of her own fault.

Well. There was really only one option from here.

“Whose idea was it anyway?” Beca asked in defeat as she reached for her pajamas and started to change.

“Amy’s,” Chloe replied, her voice small.

Beca tugged her pajama shirt over her head and glanced over at her roommate’s empty bed. Leave it to Amy to bail after making the other Bellas watch one of the freakiest movies of all time. Amy knew full well what scary movies did to them all, especially to Chloe.

Beca had only escaped the torture by being out on a date with Jesse. She hadn’t gotten back until well after the movie had ended and had made a beeline to her room, only to discover a pajama-clad Chloe Beale pacing around outside her door. The instant she’d opened the door, Chloe had shot under the covers of her bed and curled up.

Beca finished changing and walked over to the door, intending to turn off the light.

“Wait!” Chloe squeaked, and Beca glanced over to see her forehead and eyes peeking out from under the comforter. “Leave the lights on!”

“Chloe,” Beca sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I can’t sleep if the lights are on. We’ll be okay.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “Well… at least lock the door,” she pleaded, her voice quivering.

Beca resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Chloe seemed seriously freaked out, and maybe dismissing her wasn’t the best way to handle things at the moment. So, to make Chloe feel better, she put on a show of locking the door and jiggling the handle, looking back at Chloe to make her point.

(It really was all for show – the lock on the door didn’t work anyway, as she and Amy had discovered most unfortunately when Beca had accidentally walked in on her and Bumper. Now _that_ had been scary.)

“Better?” Beca asked.

Chloe nodded gratefully, revealing more of her face from under the covers.

“Okay, well. I’m still turning off the light.” And before Chloe had a chance to object, Beca flicked the switch and plunged the room into darkness.

“Beca?” Chloe’s scared voice resonated around the room immediately.

Beca hummed and said, “I’m right here,” as she navigated the familiar space to her bed. She heard Chloe sigh quietly once she found the bed. She lifted a corner of the covers, feeling some resistance from Chloe’s death grip on them, before sliding under them and next to Chloe.

It was snug. The bed was really meant for one person, and they were both trying to keep to “their” side. It was awkward.

Since Beca and the others had moved into the Bella house with Chloe at the start of the school year, Chloe had forced Beca to share a bed with her exactly twice. Once was on Beca’s very first night in the house, when she’d realized she’d forgotten to pack her bedsheets and had to have her dad bring them the next day. The other was following a wild party they’d hosted, where some Treble had actually thrown up on Chloe’s bed, meaning she had needed to sleep in someone else’s. Beca had most reluctantly volunteered after a pointed look from Amy.

So now they were at number three in terms of bed-sharing.

It was so awkward.

Beca felt Chloe shift next to her and knew she was still wide awake. Chloe hated scary movies. It stemmed back to something about her senior prom night, but Beca couldn’t remember exactly what it was.

Chloe shifted again, closer to her and the center of the bed. Beca fought the urge to move away. She stared up at the ceiling, debating. Should she…? It would be more comfortable, probably. And it would make Chloe feel better.

She blew out a breath, puffing her cheeks, thinking.

After some internal debate (is it weird? It’s weird), she said softly, “Do you… want me to, like, you know, put my arm out? So you can – so you have room?”

“That might be nice,” Chloe whispered back. She lifted her head slightly, allowing Beca to slide her arm under the pillow so they could move closer together.

Beca heard Chloe’s breath catch when their sides pressed together, but she figured it was in relief from not having to worry about falling out of bed. And having Chloe pressed up against her felt okay, much less awkward than she thought it would. It was actually kind of nice.

She closed her eyes and was just starting to drift off to sleep – it had been a _long_ week – when she heard Chloe whisper, “Stay awake.”

“What?” Beca groaned, somewhat groggy already. “Why?”

“Because I’m still scared, and I need you to distract me.”

“Chloe…”

“Please?”

Beca knew she’d lost. Of course she’d stay awake for Chloe. That’s what friends do. That didn’t mean, though, that she couldn’t tease a little.

“You know, if you can’t sleep, maybe you can try a shower?” Beca suggested, holding back her laughter. “That might help calm you down?”

She felt Chloe stiffen. “What, so the psycho can come kill me like in the movie? I don’t think so!”

Enjoying her newfound power immensely, Beca quipped back, “Well, _you_ don’t have a problem attacking people in showers.”

Chloe gasped so dramatically that Beca was surprised there was still air left in the room. “That was different!” she exclaimed. “I had to know who was singing!”

“And you couldn’t have waited for me to finish showering?” Beca responded, knowing exactly what Chloe was going to say next. They’d had this discussion several times before.

“You know I’m impulsive. I couldn’t help it!” Chloe fired back.

A wave of affection for Chloe washed over Beca; Chloe’s voice was back to normal, and for the first time in hours, she didn’t seem to be thinking of creepy murderers in motels.

“I bet you could have,” Beca replied, happy to keep their conversation going if it meant Chloe wasn’t scared anymore.

From the huge huff Chloe emitted at her statement, Beca knew she was in for it.

It was going to turn into a long night of talking. Beca was only a little surprised to realize that she didn’t mind.

 

  1. After the Welcome Party



Treble/Bella parties were nothing new.

What was new, though, was how absolutely smashed Beca allowed herself to become at one. She had never been much into getting so drunk she couldn’t remember the events of the night, but it seemed that her senior year was a good time to turn over a new leaf. It was her last year at college, so why not take advantage?

Or, maybe it had more to do with the horror of Muffgate and the ensuing Barden Bella ban. Whatever the reason, Beca was no longer above drinking her body weight in whatever questionable concoction Amy shoved into her hand. Plus, her new internship (and hiding it from Chloe) was kind of stressing her out. A lot.

Beca knew it was probably a stupid decision, really. Excessive alcohol consumption can be incredibly dangerous, and almost always leads to excessive embarrassment. However, as she threw back her seventh (eighth?) shot of the night and sipped on some more of whatever the hell Amy had shoved into her other hand as a “chaser” (there was definitely vodka _and_ rum in it), Beca couldn’t care less.

She was safe. She knew almost everyone at the party, and had even met the new Legacy chick, Erica or something. The Bella house was next door. Jesse was around, though she’d lost track of him some time ago. And Chloe was keeping an eye on her.

In fact, Chloe was right by her side, no longer drinking, but helping Beca navigate the throng of dancing college kids. Her clothes had mostly dried from her time in the pool, though the memory of her jumping into it – hazy as it was – still made Beca giggle. (Vodka makes her giggle. It had nothing to do with Chloe’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward the Bella house.)

Wait.

“Why are we going home? I’m not done yet,” Beca tried to say, though she wasn’t sure how much actually made it out of her mouth. Her ears were too cottony to be of any help.

“I don’t know what you just said,” Chloe replied, looking a little worried, “and that tells me I’m making the right decision. I’m cutting you off.”

“Whaaaat? But Chloeeee,” Beca slurred, stumbling slightly, only to feel Chloe’s arm wrap around her waist completely. She sighed happily, thoughts of the party already fading from her mind, and leaned into the hold; Chloe wouldn’t let her fall.

“Come on, Drunko. Watch your step,” Chloe said as she opened the front door and helped her into the house, where they stopped in front of the stairs. “Right. Think you can make it?”

Beca stared in silence at the daunting sight of the steps in front of her. If they weren’t moving so much, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Uh…”

“We’re gonna try, okay?” Chloe asked. “Look at me real quick?”

Beca had no idea what was happening, but she couldn’t say no to Chloe. She turned to meet familiar bright blue eyes and felt herself smile dopily.

“Yeah…” Chloe stared back at her, eyes flicking between her own. “You’re gonna sleep in my room tonight, okay? Next to the bathroom.”

“Hmm,” Beca murmured, beyond caring.

Chloe led her to the stairs, and they began the climb. It required all her concentration (and Chloe’s support) to stumble up the steps without falling on her face. Miraculously, though, they made it without injury and Chloe steered Beca down the hall into her single room.

Chloe took her to the bed and guided her hips down until she was seated on the edge. “Stay there,” she said sternly, pointing into Beca’s face before moving away again.

Beca only dimly registered what was happening as Chloe dug through her dresser and flung a T-shirt and shorts in her direction.

“Change into those,” Chloe commanded, walking into her closet with her own set of pajamas to change into.

Beca clumsily kicked off her shoes, tugged off her shirt, then peeled away her skinny jeans, laughing vaguely when they got caught around one ankle. It took her a while, but she eventually managed to finish changing into the outfit Chloe had tossed at her and lay back on the bed, the room starting to spin around her. She was definitely sleepy now, and was thrilled to find herself on a nice, soft bed.

“Beca. Open your eyes. You have to drink water.”

Beca forced her eyes open – she hadn’t known she’d closed them – and lay blinking at the ceiling light. Chloe had changed already and was staring down at her.

“I’m up,” Beca whined theatrically, vaguely offended by the amused look on Chloe’s face. Wordlessly, Chloe handed her a water bottle – where had that come from? – and Beca obediently tipped it back to chug. When Chloe looked satisfied, Beca proudly lowered the bottle and handed it back to her, triumphant at only spilling a little on herself.

Chloe placed the bottle on the floor at her side of the bed and walked around the bed to climb in next to her. They sat for a moment with their backs against the headboard. Beca’s body felt very fuzzy and her eyelids became increasingly heavy.

“How are you feeling?” Chloe asked quietly. “Do you need any food?”

“I’mmokay,” Beca sighed, wanting nothing more than to sleep. She looked down to see Chloe’s fingers laced with her own. She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but she liked it.

“Okay. You want to sleep?”

Beca nodded, then scooted awkwardly down in the bed. She was sad when it meant Chloe had to stop holding her hand, but then her head hit the pillow and she forgot all about it, eyes closing.

“Hey, no, sleep on your side tonight, okay? So you don’t choke.” Chloe’s voice made her eyes open again reluctantly.

Blearily, Beca turned to lay on her side, her back to Chloe. She grumbled a little, but it was all for show. She’d do anything Chloe asked.

“Thank you,” Chloe whispered. “I want you to be safe.”

Beca sighed, sleep already creeping into her mind. She really loved how good Chloe was to her. She really loved Chloe, actually.

“I really love you,” Beca mumbled into the pillow. “Like, more than anyone else.”

She felt Chloe shift beside her, then heard her voice as if from far away. “Beca? Did you just… Beca?”

Beca only hummed, her body relaxing into the bed. She dimly wished Chloe would hold on to her, like Jesse did sometimes.

“Beca, stay awake for a sec, please. What did you just say? Beca?”

But she’d already drifted off to sleep.

 

  1. After They Became Champions



“Chlo. You have to stay awake. We just won Worlds! It’s party time!” Beca shook Chloe’s shoulder, doing her very best to keep her co-captain conscious. The Worlds competition had finished wrapping up moments before, and the Bellas had stepped off stage to sit together on the grass and celebrate their win.

“Seriously, Chloe, you were all aca-crazy on us this whole year, the least you can do is buy us shots,” Amy added helpfully from Beca’s other side. The other Bellas whooped in agreement (“Just don’t tell my mom!” cried Emily anxiously).

Chloe blinked around at them all blearily. Beca knew she really had herself to blame; she’d known how jet lagged and exhausted Chloe still was, the stress of the year finally having caught up with her. She shouldn’t have let Chloe sit down for even a second, because getting her back up was going to be a challenge.

“I don’t know, guys,” Chloe said, stifling a massive yawn. “I might go back to the hotel…” A chorus of protests met her words, making her flinch.

Beca shushed the others, leaned forward, and said softly to Chloe, “A victory party won’t be the same without you, Chlo. Do it for me?”

She knew it was a cheap move; Chloe could never say no to her, as she’d discovered relatively recently. But then, Beca figured, she could never say no to Chloe, so it was fair.

Sure enough, Chloe looked at her with a mix of amusement and something she couldn’t quite figure out. Before she had time to guess at what it was, though, Chloe looked back at the others and said, “Okay, fine, let’s party. It’s not every day we become world champions!”

“That’s right!” shrieked Emily, leaping – actually leaping – into the air. “We’re champions!”

Around them, the Bellas erupted into cheers and shouts of joy, but Beca really only had eyes for her tired (but happy) co-captain.

 

  1. After The Move



Unpacking was a bitch.

Beca looked around at their new Brooklyn apartment with mild horror. It wasn’t much – it was the size of a closet – and half-unpacked boxes were strewn haphazardly around the space, much of their contents spread on counters or on the floor until finding a permanent home. They needed to get a shower curtain for the toilet, and there really needed to be some kind of partition set up between Amy’s bed and the pull-out couch bed. And, oh yeah, the fact that she and Chloe were going to have to share that teeny fold-out bed. It wasn’t ideal.

She wasn’t really sure how her life had gotten to this point.

Chloe had been thrilled about every step of the way, because of course. She’d cheered them as they lugged box after box – they surely didn’t need all that stuff – up rickety stairs and into the apartment. She attacked open boxes with an alarming fervor, insistent that they unpack as much as possible the first night. She had even started an Excel spreadsheet about where they put everything, in case they needed to find something quickly.

At one point, Beca had stopped to take a quick breather, only for Chloe to immediately yell at her to get back up and keep going. It was about then that Amy had conveniently mumbled some excuse and left the apartment, abandoning Beca to Chloe’s overenthusiasm.

Not sure what else to do without getting screeched at again, Beca slit open yet another box, ignoring the ones she’d already opened. Unfortunately, Chloe chose that moment to squeal loudly over a group photo of the Bellas she’d just extracted from a box, startling Beca and making the knife in her hand slip onto her opposite thumb.

“Ouch, fuck, shit,” she swore, dropping the knife to suck on her stinging cut.

“Oh no!” Chloe exclaimed, looking up from the photograph. “Are you okay?”

Beca took her hand from her mouth and examined the cut; it didn’t look too deep, and the bleeding had already slowed. To be fair, she wasn’t sure how much blood she had left; she’d already cut herself three times and had gotten a number of carboard paper cuts.

“It’s fine,” Beca muttered. “But can we be done now?” She heard the exasperation in her own voice, and half-expected Chloe to whip out the Pitch Pipe and chuck it at her head, but to her surprise, Chloe’s expression softened, and she nodded.

“Yeah, let’s call it a night,” she said. “We’ve done a lot today.”

Beca let out a huge sigh and turned to throw herself on her – their – bed. “Thank God!” she said, flat on her back, one arm tossed over her face to cover her eyes.

Chloe laughed, then reprimanded, “Oh, it wasn’t _that_ bad.”

Beca held her cut hands out over her body and said dryly, “I almost bled out from the box opener.”

With a tut of her tongue, Chloe muttered, “That was your own fault,” as she nudged aside a box and started toward the bed.

“Hmpf,” grunted Beca as Chloe sat next to her, looking down at her face. “Wanna watch Netflix?” she asked, sitting up to lean against the “headboard” next to Chloe. Sharing a bed might be awkward for a while, but it was nothing they hadn’t done before. Besides, if Beca’d had to pick one Bella to share a bed with, it would have been Chloe.

“Sure,” said Chloe, grabbing her laptop from her nightstand and moving it to rest between them. “What should we watch?” She pulled her lower lip into her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she thought. Beca couldn’t stop her eyes from flicking down to Chloe’s lips and back up.

“I’m feeling some Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt,” she finally said decisively, glancing at Beca for approval.

“Perfect,” Beca nodded.

“Pitch Perfect?” Chloe asked, looking at her out of the corner of her eye.

“What?”

“Never mind,” said Chloe, a corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. Beca really needed to stop looking at her mouth. “Let’s just watch the show.”

The familiar intro music played (“Can you believe people actually skip the song?” Chloe asked, scandalized), and Beca shifted to a more comfortable position on the bed. It had been an excruciatingly long day for multiple reasons. She closed her eyes for just a moment to rest.

She didn’t realize she was starting to nod off until Chloe’s elbow jabbed into her side.

“Oof, what –”

“No, you have to stay awake!” Chloe said earnestly. “It’s our first night in the apartment together!”

Beca shook her head, trying to wake up a little. She glanced at the laptop screen and saw she’d missed several minutes of the show.

“Right,” she said, clearing her throat and glancing at Chloe’s pleading eyes, “okay, I’m up.”

She shifted in bed, trying to prop herself up. She glanced at her phone. Nothing from Jesse yet. She looked back at the laptop, only to see she again missed several seconds of the show. She tapped her fingers nervously on her leg.

“Hey, you okay?”

Beca looked up to see Chloe watching her closely, clearly concerned.

Beca blinked in surprise; she hadn’t been planning on talking mentioning anything, but… she took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it’s just… I broke up with Jesse,” Beca said softly, feeling her face warm at the admission.

Chloe’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She gaped at Beca in disbelief for so long that Beca wondered if she’d had some kind of stroke. After several moments, she recovered enough to gasp, “Shit, Bec, what happened?”

Beca shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it. She didn’t see why it was such a big deal. “He just didn’t get why I came here with – he just didn’t get it,” she said in a rush, hoping Chloe didn’t notice the near slip-up. In truth, Jesse hadn’t been happy that she and Chloe were going to be sharing a bed. And Beca was tired of him constantly questioning her feelings (completely platonic, of course) toward her best friend.

“Oh… I’m sorry,” Chloe said, a strange expression on her face. Beca tried not to read into it too much; most likely, she was trying to refrain from asking a ton of questions.

 “It’s okay, really,” Beca replied, only slightly surprised to find that it actually _was_ okay. “I think we both knew it was coming for a while.”

A corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up in sympathy, and she leaned forward. Unconsciously, Beca mirrored her, leaning in. Again, she couldn’t stop her eyes from flicking down to Chloe’s lips. What was wrong with her?

“Do you need a hug?” Chloe whispered. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Beca laughed a little. She couldn’t help it. The whole thing was just so _Chloe_. She dragged a hand through her hair, and, still smiling, whispered back, “I would like a hug, yes.”

Beaming at her, Chloe leaned again to envelop Beca in her arms. Beca squeezed her eyes closed and inhaled Chloe’s familiar scent deeply, her own arms rising to rest around Chloe’s waist.

Yeah. She could get used to their new home.

 

  1. In Case of Emergency



Chloe hummed as she cooked. Beca didn’t think she even knew she did it, but that made it even more adorable.

They’d lived in the Brooklyn apartment for almost two years, and yet, Beca had still failed to master the kitchen. Over time, it had really become more Chloe’s domain anyway; she loved everything to do with cooking, baking, and kitchen things in general. Beca, on the other hand, had what she considered a healthy mistrust of the oven, and Amy was never home at dinnertime. (“My Fat Amy Adams impression isn’t going to give itself.”)

Beca sat on the bed, pretending to work on her laptop while actually watching Chloe sway her hips in time with the tune she was humming. Something had changed. Beca wasn’t sure when, or how, but something had changed between them for the better. Chloe had somehow become the most important person in her life, and maybe it should have scared Beca, but it didn’t. It felt as natural as breathing.

Which is why the sight of Chloe suddenly doubling over, clutching at her stomach and crying out, shot terror through Beca’s veins like ice.

“Chloe!” she shouted, shoving her laptop aside carelessly to launch herself into the kitchen.

Chloe fell to the ground, still grasping at her abdomen. “Fuck, Bec, it really hurts,” she groaned, surprise underlying the pain in her voice.

Beca sank to her knees next to her, stunned at Chloe’s swearing. Chloe never swore.

“Chlo, what – tell me – what can I do?” she tried to keep her own voice steady, tried not to show how scared she was.

Chloe’s brow furrowed, and she curled more tightly into herself until she was in the fetal position. Instinctively, needing to help but not sure how, Beca reached out and placed one hand on her hip, the other brushing Chloe’s hair away from her face.

“I need – hospital, now,” Chloe managed through gritted teeth.

Beca’s heart dropped and she felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Uh, okay,” she said, looking around frantically for her phone. “Do you want an ambulance?”

Chloe laughed harshly and choked out, “We can’t afford that and you know it.” She winced and her body jerked under Beca’s hands.

Panic started to rise in Beca’s throat. She could drive them, but she didn’t know if Chloe could make it down the stairs, and then they’d be caught in rush hour traffic… and Chloe was in so much pain…

“Right,” she said, trying to remain calm for Chloe’s sake, “but Chloe, the traffic – “

Chloe interrupted her with a groan of pain, her eyes squeezing closed momentarily. “Fine,” she gasped, “call the damn ambulance.”

Beca sprang up from the floor instantly, her eyes scanning the apartment. Where did she put her damn phone?

Finally, she spotted it on the floor near their bed. She lunged for it, knocking over a chair at the kitchen table in her rush. She scooped it up, then threw herself back across the apartment to Chloe. She fumbled with the phone, hands shaking too badly to punch in her PIN correctly. After three tries, she finally managed to unlock her phone and dialed 911.

It rang twice. She didn’t understand why it took that long. How dare it take that long when Chloe couldn’t even stand?

“911, what’s your emergency?” Beca almost sobbed in relief when the dispatcher answered.

“Yeah, it’s my – my roommate,” Beca managed, Chloe’s eyes fixed on hers as she spoke. “She collapsed and she’s in a lot of pain, you need to get here now!”

“Is she conscious?”

“Yes! And she’s in a lot of pain and on the floor and you need to be here, okay?” Beca said in a rush. Didn’t this person – she had no idea if they were male or female, she just cared about them sending an ambulance – understand that they needed to hurry?

“Breathe, Bec,” Chloe whispered. Beca could have cried. Chloe was trying to calm _her_. She settled for blinking rapidly and reaching down to take Chloe’s hand in her free one.

“We need your address, and we need you to stay calm.”

Beca grit her teeth but inhaled deeply and told the dispatcher their address. Chloe’s hand squeezed hers tightly and she shifted uncomfortably on the floor.

“Okay, an ambulance is on the way. Where is the pain coming from?”

“Um…” Beca pulled the phone away from her mouth. “Chlo, where does it hurt?”

“My right side,” Chloe managed, her voice scarily quiet.

Beca repeated the information to the dispatcher, not taking her eyes from Chloe’s face. Her body felt numb and her head a little floaty.

Jesus. The last thing they needed was for her to pass out.

“Has your roommate had her appendix removed?”

A brick slid into Beca’s stomach. Of course. What else could it be?

“Do you still have your appendix?” she fired at Chloe, who nodded, eyes widening.

“Yes, she still has it. Do you think that’s it?”

“I need you to apply pressure gradually to her side, then pull back all at once. If the pain gets worse, it’s likely the appendix.”

Beca closed her eyes. She could do this.

Chloe was watching her closely, face still twisted in pain and eyes overly bright. “What did they say?” she asked, voice tight.

“I need to touch where it hurts,” Beca replied, trying not to think about how much pain Chloe might be in soon.

Wincing, Chloe nodded and unfurled slightly, moving her arms to give Beca access to her stomach. Tenderly, Beca reached down. She hesitated for a second before slowly pressing into Chloe’s right side, keeping her gaze locked on Chloe’s face. She pressed further, then pulled back all at once.

Chloe’s eyes slammed shut and she cried out, a horrible, gut-wrenching noise that tore at Beca’s soul.

“I’m sorry, Chloe, I’m so sorry!” Beca said desperately, hating herself.

Suddenly, Chloe rolled to her other side, turning away from Beca, and was violently sick.

“Shit, fuck, ah –” Beca fumbled with the phone in her hand, rubbing small circles on Chloe’s back with the other. “She’s throwing up now! What’s happening?” she spat into the phone.

“It sounds like appendicitis. The medics should be there at any moment, and they will take her to the hospital.”

Chloe rolled back to face Beca, pale and sweaty. Beca watched, horrified, as her eyes drifted closed and her breathing turned shallow.

“No, stay awake, Chloe, please,” she murmured, her throat tight, as she wiped at Chloe’s mouth with her own sleeve.

Opening her eyes a crack, Chloe said softly, “I’m not going to sleep. Just hurts. It’s okay.”

“You’d better be okay, damn it, because –” Beca’s voice caught in her throat. There was no coming back from this.

In that moment, she realized what had changed between them.

And if she told Chloe, it would change everything. And if Chloe didn’t feel the same, it would destroy her.

But then, Chloe twitched again, agony written over her face, and Beca was seized with the need to tell her, to let her know, just in case she didn’t get another chance.

Fuck it.

“Because I love you!” she finished, needing Chloe to understand.

Chloe frowned at her. “I loved you too, Bec, but –”

“No,” Beca cut her off, “I mean… like. I’m – I’m in love with you.”

Bright blue eyes flew open in shock and amazement; Beca watched as Chloe’s face put on display a range of emotion, from surprise to confusion to fear and, finally – remarkably – to complete happiness.

“Beca, I lo –”

“Um, this isn’t a great time, but you should know that the ambulance has arrived.” The voice of the dispatcher was jarring in Beca’s ear. She’d forgotten she was still on the phone.

At that moment, there was a booming knock on the door: the medics. Beca dropped her phone, flew across the room, unbolted the door, and flung it wide to let in several paramedics, who were at Chloe’s side instantly, a stretcher held between them.

One of the medics, a kind-looking woman, pulled Beca to the side and out of the way in the cramped apartment.

“You called?” the medic asked gently.

Beca nodded, her eyes on the men lifting Chloe to the stretcher.

 “She’ll be okay,” the medic said, noticing where her attention was. “We see this a lot.”

“She’d better be,” Beca breathed. “She’s my everything.”

 

  1. After Their First Time



Chloe rolled off of Beca, only to cuddle into her side, hand on resting on Beca’s stomach and head at her shoulder.

Their bare bodies remained touching at every point possible; Beca used to hate cuddling after sex – it had felt suffocating – but even being in this much contact with Chloe wasn’t enough. If she could, she would pull Chloe into her very skin.

They lay there, breathing hard, as Beca stared at the ceiling. Her body still tingled, contentment coating her insides. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so happy. And it was all because of the woman next to her.

Finally, Chloe broke the silence. “That was…”

“I know,” Beca said. It had been completely perfect.

Beca closed her eyes and relived the past few hours. Their fourth date… arriving home to the empty apartment… the kissing that had turned into much, much more… watching in awe as Chloe revealed herself… hardly daring to believe that Chloe was letting her touch her body… tracing over the fading scar on her right side to caressing her breasts, to dipping lower and into heat… and then having Chloe do the same for her.

Their first time had been utterly astounding.

Beca felt like she was glowing. Actually fucking _glowing_. Her chest felt all tight and full. She was so happy it was gross.

Chloe’s finger prodded at her cheek gently. Beca opened her eyes and took in Chloe’s wild hair, swollen lips, flushed face, and darkened eyes.

She’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

“Stay awake, Bec. Or did I tire you out?” Chloe added teasingly, biting her lower lip.

Beca grinned back, a knot already starting to form low in her stomach.

“Hardly,” she replied, shifting to swing a leg over Chloe’s hips and leaning down to capture her lips. Chloe sighed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around Beca’s back, pulling her close and lifting her hips up into her.

Beca moaned, her hand already slipping down between them.

It was going to be an unforgettable night.

 

  1. At the Murder Cabin



Beca lay stretched out on her side, eyes zeroed in on their bedroom door. She spun her engagement ring around her finger nervously, ears straining for the sound of splintering wood or the click of a door handle. She’d definitely locked the front door. Right? She’d checked three times already.

She heard the pattering of rain on the roof, then the unmistakable creaking of the trees outside. Was that a twig snapping?

Maybe she should check the lock again.

A sudden scraping noise filled the room and Beca jumped violently; she bolted upright in bed, only to see a branch trailing across a window, steered into the cabin by the howling wind outside.

A hand landed on her back, smoothing up and down over her pajama shirt. “It’s okay, Bec,” Chloe mumbled from beside her. “It’s jus’ the wind.”

Beca swung around to stare at Chloe incredulously. “Why did Aubrey feel the need to stick us in some – some creepy backwoods murder cabin?”

Chloe sighed. “Oh, calm down,” she said, blinking up at Beca blearily, “it’s charming.”

Beca snorted, feeling near hysterics. “It’s like something our of a horror movie.”

“Oh, shush.”

“Chloe,” said Beca seriously, “I feel like if I don’t stay awake, someone with an axe will break in and brutally murder us both.”

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe said, mirroring Beca’s serious tone (Beca rather thought she was being mocked), “The other Bellas are nearby in their own cabins. We’re here because Aubrey and Stacie invited us to celebrate with them, remember?”

Beca stiffened. “Oh my God,” she breathed.

“What?”

“Lilly is going to murder us.”

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe reprimanded with a laugh that made Beca smile grudgingly, her unease fading. “Go to sleep. Or no sex for a week,” she added, looking triumphant.

Beca stared at her, offended by the too-pleased little smile on Chloe’s face. _Two could play that game._ Smirking, Beca replied cockily, “Ha, like you could last a week without my tongue between –”

A pillow flew up out of nowhere to hit her squarely in the face.

“Go to sleep!”

 

  1. After Their Wedding



Beca never thought that life would take her to this point. She had never planned on having a wedding, not really. She wasn’t opposed to marriage in the slightest, but she never saw the appeal of having a hundred people staring at her and her partner as they read each other mushy love stuff and promised to spend their lives together. It hadn’t made any sense to her.

Until, of course, Chloe Beale had gotten down on one knee (Beca had immediately pulled her up back to standing).

Well. Chloe Mitchell, now.

And as Beca walked down the hallway of the hotel, hand-in-hand with her new wife ( _wife!_ ), she couldn’t think of a single thing she would change. It felt as though everything in her life had been leading her to this point. If a meteor were to fall from space and demolish the earth, she would die happy.

The ceremony had been small but perfect. The Bellas had all gone, of course, as if that was even a question. Beca had done her very best to ignore the “It’s about time” sign that Amy had held up following the vows. Both their parents had been there, too, with their respective fathers walking them each down the split aisles to one another. Beca had never seen her dad cry before, but he assured her it was all happy tears.

Beca hadn’t cared about any of their guests, though, not really. They could have had no one show up and it wouldn’t have mattered. The only person in the world she cared about was the one she was marrying.

Chloe had looked utterly radiant in her dress. It was gorgeous, white, lacy top, and flowing bottom, but beyond that, Beca couldn’t remember any details. What she did remember was the shine in Chloe’s eyes, the beauty of her face, and how her hair had been twisted into an elegant up-do.

Beca had worn a dress too, also white and relatively simple. She’d asked Aubrey to do her hair, which she later regretted when Aubrey used the time together to unload multiple death threats “case in you ever think about hurting Chloe.”

As if.

The entire ceremony had been perfect, and their reception full of laughter. She had loved seeing the Bellas having a good time, and the sight of Aubrey and Stacie dancing nearby had sent a wave of affection for them all washing over her.

The Beca Mitchell of years ago would have laughed at her. She didn’t care.

She and Chloe reached the door of their room, Chloe digging in a small clutch for the key. She found it, unlocked the door, and Beca was about to start in when Chloe stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“I know it might not work,” Chloe said in response to her questioning look, “but I’d really like to carry my wife over the threshold.”

Beca felt her face split into a wide grin. She was never going to get tired of that word. _Wife_.

“Let’s try it,” she said. She’d agree to anything at this point.

Chloe smiled and bent her knees; Beca looped her arms around her neck, then lifted first one leg for Chloe to scoop up, then then the other, and suddenly she was situated comfortably in Chloe’s arms.

“God, I’m glad I work out,” Chloe grunted playfully. “You weigh, like, a million pounds.”

“Shut up. And don’t whack my head on the doorframe,” Beca warned, eyeing the doorway.

“Don’t tempt me,” Chloe replied as she eased forward, turning slightly to the side to fit them through the door.

Beca held her breath and did her best to think _light_ thoughts, but Chloe managed it without a hitch. Before she knew it, they crossed the threshold and the door swung closed behind them. Beca leaned forward and pecked Chloe’s lips before Chloe could set her down; there was just something about Chloe carrying her that she adored.

Chloe did set her down eventually, though, making sure Beca had her balance before stepping away slightly to look around the room. They had spared no expense; it was a suite, with a king-sized bed, a kitchen area, and a large bathroom, complete with jacuzzi-sized bathtub.

The amenities didn’t matter to Beca, though. She only had eyes for Chloe, who was watching her just as intently.

“You look beautiful,” Beca whispered, wishing she were better with words. “Beautiful” wasn’t nearly enough to describe how absolutely stunning Chloe looked.

Nevertheless, Chloe’s cheeks tinged pink and she glanced down before meeting Beca’s eyes again. “You look better,” she said quietly.

Beca couldn’t help but snort at that; there was no comparison.

“I’m serious,” insisted Chloe, as if she knew what Beca was thinking. And then, her expression so tender that it almost hurt to look at, she said softly, “Thank you for making me the happiest person in the world.”

Beca frowned and said, “That’s not true.”

Chloe tilted her head, clearly confused.

“ _I’m_ the happiest person in the world,” Beca clarified, “and it’s all because of you.”

A smile flitted across Chloe’s face. “That was cheesy.”

Beca nodded in agreement, then raised a finger threateningly. “And if you tell the Bellas, I’ll –”

“Please, babe,” Chloe cut her off with a wave of her hand, “they already know. They knew before we did.”

Swallowing her threat, Beca moved her hand to rub at the back of her neck. “Yeah,” she said, “they’re pretty smart, aren’t they?”

“Uh huh,” Chloe agreed, then turned around. “Help me with the zip?”

“You know I love unzipping your clothes,” Beca said, wigging her eyebrows as she moved forward.

“Wow, aren’t you forward?” Chloe teased, sighing when Beca pressed her lips against the back of her neck as she dragged the zipper down.

Beca didn’t reply, only let her fingers trail along the revealed skin of Chloe’s back. She couldn’t get over the fact that Chloe had chosen her over everyone else in the world. It didn’t make any sense.

And yet, when Chloe turned around to capture Beca’s lips in a searing kiss, Beca thought that maybe it did make sense, in a weird way.

“Your turn,” Chloe mumbled against her lips, gently grabbing Beca by the shoulders and turning her around to ease the zipper of her dress down. 

Beca closed her eyes at the feel of careful fingers at her back, tracing down her spine as the zipper fell. Once it was unzipped, Chole stepped back so they could both take off their dresses. Careful not to wrinkle the material, Beca hung it up delicately in their enormous closet, in which their suitcases had already been placed.

She turned around to see Chloe, clad only in matching white lace bra and underwear, eyeing up and down her body.

“Did you plan this?” Chloe asked, gesturing to Beca’s own white lingerie set. “The matching?”

“Nah,” replied Beca, “I just figured…” she trailed off, distracted by the massive yawn Chloe tried (unsuccessfully) to hide behind her hand. Beca didn’t blame her; it had been a long day, and they certainly hadn’t slept much the night before….

But still. It was their wedding night, for crying out loud.

“Oh, hey, none of that,” Beca said, gesturing vaguely toward Chloe. “I need you to stay awake.”

Chloe arched an eyebrow and placed her hands on her hips. “Are you propositioning me?” she asked, her voice low and scandalized.

Beca felt her own eyebrows jump up in surprise. She hadn’t been thinking about _that_ at all. Well, maybe a little, but not really. “For once, no, actually,” she started. “We have our entire lives for that. I just… I really want to talk to my wife on our wedding night.”

Chloe’s lips parted in surprise, only for her expression to immediately shift into one that Beca had finally learned to recognize as her “I love you” face. The care with which Chloe looked at her filled Beca’s chest like a helium balloon, until she felt she might actually float away.

“I knew I married you for a reason,” Chloe whispered, her voice tight.

Beca could only smile back.

 

  1. On the Plane



“Stay awake, we’re about to land,” Beca nudged Chloe awake in the seat next to her. She was not about to carry Chloe off the plane.

“I’m up,” Chloe mumbled, not opening her eyes.

Beca elbowed her again, tutting her tongue. “I know it’s early, but it was the only flight I could get to make it in time to his –” she cut off and looked at the seat in front of her, a weird lump in her throat.

Chloe did open her eyes then, staring at the side of Beca’s face. Beca felt her gaze but didn’t look. If she did, she might start crying, which would be horrible.

“It’s okay to be sad, Bec,” Chloe said softly, reaching over to slide her hand into Beca’s. “He was your dad.”

Beca shrugged and looked up, blinking. Sure, they hadn’t always had the best relationship. But they’d mended it, and for him to just suddenly not be there – because of a stupid heart attack – was surprisingly painful.

She swallowed hard, pressing her lips together.

Chloe waited, her thumb smoothing over the back of Beca’s hand.

Finally, with a deep breath, Beca looked back at her wife. She nodded, then said, “Yeah. It sucks. I – I’m going to miss him. And I really, really hate funerals.”

Saying it finally made the tears come; she did her best to wipe them away with her free hand before anyone else saw and started asking questions, but she couldn’t hide them from Chloe.

“I won’t leave your side the entire time,” Chloe said sincerely, her fingers tugging on Beca’s. “I promise.”

Beca nodded and took another deep breath. She managed a watery smile at Chloe as their plane descended further, preparing to land.

 

  1. The New Arrival



Beca really hated the smell of hospitals. She hated the harsh white lighting. She hated the unnatural sterility of everything. She hated the busy, distracting bustle of nurses and the doctor in the room. Above all else, though, she hated that the entire medical team had their backs to her, concealing from view the one thing in the world that mattered to her and her wife in that moment.

“You did so well, baby,” Chloe murmured from next to her, smoothing a hand between her shoulders. “I love you so, so much.”

Beca’s lips twitched up into what she hoped could pass for a smile. She was exhausted and achy, her body begging for sleep. “I love you too,” she replied distractedly, eyes fluttering a little.

“Stay awake, Bec,” Chloe rubbed harder at her shoulders. “I know you must be exhausted. But we have to meet her together, okay?”

Beca nodded, her attention fixed on the doctor’s back. Why haven’t they turned around yet? “Don’t worry,” she said to Chloe. “I won’t miss this.”

They waited another agonizing moment, anxiety starting to press on Beca’s chest. She gripped Chloe’s other hard more firmly. Then, the most beautiful sound Beca had ever heard filled the room. It flooded her veins with a kind of fire, and the pressure on her chest lifted instantly.

No music she had ever sung, created, or heard before compared to the first sound of their daughter’s voice.

The doctor turned then, a pink little body wrapped in a blanket in her arms. Beca and Chloe gasped simultaneously, both reaching out automatically. The doctor handed the squirming bundle to Chloe first, who gazed down at the small features in wonder. She looked up at Beca, her eyes full of tears and smile wider than Beca had ever seen it.

Shaking her head wordlessly, as if her voice had failed her, Chloe leaned down to place their daughter into Beca’s arms, where she settled and paused her crying.

The first look into huge blue eyes was everything. She was perfect. Beca focused on the small nose, the pink lips, the chocolate-colored tuft of hair. Then, she reached out a finger for a tiny fist to grasp, and she counted: five perfect little fingers on one hand, five more on the other, which was flailing through the air. Beca had never seen anything so beautiful and precious. She’d thought she’d known what it was to love; her love for the Bellas, her love for Chloe, and her love for the fluttering and moving that had grown within her for the past nine months. Yet, in an instant, the little being in her arms showed her that she’d known nothing of love until then. It wasn’t that she’d lost some aspect of the love she’d felt before; rather, she was swept away by an almost painful expansion in her chest as she felt her heart double in size.

She didn’t know she was crying until she felt Chloe’s delicate fingers wiping at her cheeks.

“What do you think?” she asked, glancing up into Chloe’s equally wet eyes.

“I think it’s perfect for her.”

Beca nodded, exhaled shakily, looked into their daughter’s eyes, and said, “Hey there, Piper Leigh Mitchell.”

Chloe laughed, a happy, bubbly sound that made Piper look around for its source, her face scrunching and relaxing while she tried to decide whether or not she liked being out in the world.

“She looks like you,” Chloe said contentedly.

Beca pursed her lips doubtfully. “It was your egg, Chloe.”

“She still looks like you.”

Beca didn’t really care who she looked like. (That’s not true. She wanted her to look like Chloe.) All she cared about was that they finally got to meet their perfect, healthy baby girl.

 “Bella will finally have her playmate,” she said absentmindedly, now brushing a finger along a soft cheek.

Chloe hummed and leaned to press a kiss against Beca’s temple. “I’ll call them all and let them know,” she said, also stroking along Piper’s cheek. “They’ll be so anxious to hear.”

“It took twenty-eight hours,” Beca said dryly. “I’m sure the excitement wore off.”

Chloe rose to stand upright, her eyes still on Piper. “Well, Bec,” she said, “you’re small. I don’t know what you expected. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

It seemed to cost her genuine effort to tear her attention away from the baby in Beca’s arms, but with one final kiss, Chloe spun and exited the room to make calls to the Bellas and Chloe’s parents.

Beca smiled down at Piper. “Welcome to the family, kid,” she whispered. “You’re in for a wild ride.”

 

  1. Before the Play



“Stay awake!” an elbow jammed into Beca’s side, jolting her out of her doze. “And stop rubbing your eyes!”

“Fine then. You rub my eyes,” Beca grumbled back. It had been an exhausting week, the school auditorium seats were comfortable, and they were sitting in the semi-darkness. It did nothing to help her wakefulness. Or lack thereof.

“What?” huffed Chloe. “That’s weird. I’m not doing that.”

“Yeah, well… I’m tired.”

Chloe sighed loudly. “Beca, your daughter worked very hard in this play.”

Beca sat up in her seat, shaking her head in an attempt to wake herself up. She whispered back, “She’s a tree, Chloe. A tree. And she’s your daughter, too.”

Chloe crossed her arms over her heavily pregnant belly stubbornly, though the angle was awkward. “She looks like you.”

Exasperated, Beca turned to look directly at her wife and hissed, “Your. Egg.”

Chloe turned back to her and opened her mouth, likely to argue back, but then the lights in the auditorium dimmed and the curtain started to lift.

“Shh, it’s starting!” Amy shushed them both from Chloe’s other side; Beca glanced up to see her, Emily, Aubrey, Stacie (with Bella on her lap), and Lilly watching them with deep amusement.

Beca rolled her eyes at the smug expression on Chloe’s face, but turned her attention to the stage. A ton of kids she vaguely recognized from other school events ran on stage, but she only had eyes for the one dressed as a tree. There, toward the back for some reason, was Piper, face lighting with happiness at the sight of her two moms and her “aunts” in the audience.

She’d grown beautifully; she still had brown hair (though free from the gray streaks Beca had noticed lately in her own hair), but her eyes and facial features were all Chloe, though of course less lined. Beca grinned proudly back at Piper, feeling the stress of the week melt away into nothingness as she sat back to enjoy the play.

Piper was the best damn tree that had ever been in any play ever. For all time. Beca was sure of it.

 

  1. And Later



The years had been kind to them.

They’d been married for forty-three years, had two children, several dogs, a few cats, and a home full of laughter. Chloe had loved being a teacher and Beca had found her own success in the music industry years ago. She had managed to remain friends with Jesse and his wife. Of course, the Bellas had remained close, friends even to the end. (Stacie’s funeral had been the worst day of Beca’s life.) It was much more than Beca ever could have asked for.

She only regretted that she wasn’t going to meet their grandchildren.

Beca never thought Chloe would be the first to go. It felt wrong. Unnatural. Somehow, she’d thought that someone with that much sunlight couldn’t be extinguished. She’d just never imagined having to live in a world without Chloe.

(She knew she wouldn’t be far behind. It wasn’t an option.)

(Cancer kills, but so does a broken heart.)

Their kids would be okay. Piper and her younger brother, Jamie, were both fully grown, both with kids of their own on the way. Beca was beyond excited for them; she remembered well what that anticipation felt like.

Chloe sighed softly in the hospice bed, turning her tired (but still beautiful) eyes to Beca. Beca smiled at her tightly from a chair she’d pulled up to the bed, smoothing her thumb over Chloe’s knuckles, the skin feeling papery and fragile under her touch.

Jamie stood on the other side of the bed, looking down at his moms with a sadness Beca hated to be the cause of. She knew Chloe must feel worse, and gently squeezed her hand.

Beca glanced at the clock. Piper was running late. She and her husband had had to drive from over three hours away, she knew, but she’d have thought Piper might step on the gas a little more this time.

She looked back at Chloe, fear slicing through her soul when she saw how hard it was becoming for Chloe to keep her eyes open.

“Chlo, just stay awake a little longer, okay?” Beca pleaded softly. “Wait for Piper.”

Chloe struggled. After much longer than Beca liked, she finally forced open her eyes. “Bec…” she whispered, looking strained.

“I know,” Beca’s voice cracked. “Piper is almost here.”

Chloe stared into her eyes with so much love and trust that it made Beca want to cry. She couldn’t do that, though, because it would only make Chloe sad. So, instead, she just squeezed the familiar hand in hers, ignoring the arthritis in her own knuckles.

They sat in silence then, just looking at each other. They’d already said all they needed to say. They’d had a lifetime to say it.

Beca knew what Chloe felt, and Chloe knew what Beca felt. That’s all there was to it.

There was a sudden flurry of sound from outside the door; a second later, it was flung open and their daughter rushed in (pregnant belly first), hair wild and eyes wide. The young woman scanned the room frantically, until her eyes landed on Chloe. Instantly, her shoulders relaxed and she tipped her head back, running a hand across her face.

“Mom,” she sighed, relief clear in her voice, “I’m here.”

Beca watched Chloe’s face light up at the sight of Piper. She sat up a little in bed, wincing slightly but doing her best to hide it from their children. Beca noticed, though. She always noticed.

“Hey, Piper,” Jamie said quietly, reaching to hug his sister. He had inherited Beca’s eyes and brown hair, having come from her egg. She wished that one of them had had Chloe’s formerly red hair, but maybe there was some hope for Piper’s future child.

“Patrick is parking the car,” Piper said, looking between Beca and Chloe. “He said he’d give us some privacy.”

Beca nodded. Piper’s husband Patrick had always been considerate.

“Thanks for coming, honey,” she said, leaning forward to hug Piper with one arm, her other hand remaining locked around Chloe’s.

“How much longer?” Piper whispered in her ear, so quietly that Beca wasn’t sure what she’d said at first.

“Not long,” Beca breathed back, turning her face into Piper’s neck so Chloe couldn’t hear.

She felt Piper stiffen before she pulled away. Piper glanced to Jamie, who was watching solemnly. Beca hated that look on his face; he used to laugh constantly. Piper had been more like her as a child, a little harder to reach, but Jamie was like Chloe through and through.

Together, the siblings turned to Chloe. Beca let her mind wander a little as they said what they needed to their mom. Chloe smiled gently at them, reaching out her free hand to hug them and touch their faces. The sight made Beca’s chest hurt, so she looked away. She still had some time with their kids – though not much – so she would talk to them then. Chloe whispered to them, her once-powerful voice now strained and weak.

The hand in Beca’s squeezed tighter, Chloe’s fingers stroking her palm. Beca risked a glance up to see that Chloe looked happy, normal, and calm, but by the way her fingers fiddled with Beca’s, Beca knew she was in pain. She was just hiding it to keep Piper and Jamie calm. Beca’s mind flashed back to a kitchen floor and an ambulance call, a whispered “ _Breathe, Bec,”_ and she had to look away again.

Her eyes fixed on the adjacent wall, Beca let herself remember. Fiery hair and blue eyes at the Activities Fair; a shower, then auditions; countless movie nights at home with their best friends; becoming world champions (Piper and Jamie had loved that story); the first night in their apartment; their first time; their wedding night; and every day since. Chloe, Chloe, Chloe, constant and in love with her.

How had it all gone by so quickly?

Much, much too soon, the hand in hers gave a gentle tug. Beca looked back at the love of her life and saw it there, in her eyes. It was close.

“Beca…” Chloe whispered, looking afraid for the first time.

“We’ll…” Jamie had to stop and clear his throat. “We’ll step out.”

Beca nodded, seeing the relief in Chloe’s expression. Beca knew she’d wanted Piper and Jamie’s last memories of her to be while she was alive.

Chloe reached up, hugging Piper and Jamie one last time, drawing them close and squeezing her eyes shut. Beca felt her throat start to close; she swallowed, forced it to relax. If Chloe could do this, she could, too.

“I love you both with everything I am,” Chloe whispered, her voice filling the room.

Jamie’s face twisted; Piper’s lips slammed together.

After a moment, they said their final “I love you”s and slowly, reluctantly, looking back the whole way, left pulled back and left the room, closing the door with a click behind them.

Chloe stared at them the whole way, nothing but pride in her features. When the door finally closed, she stared at the wood as if she could see through it to them.

“We did really well,” Beca said softly, knowing it was what Chloe needed to hear. “They’ll be okay.”

“I know they will,” Chloe murmured, looking back at Beca. “Will you?”

Beca felt her own face twist and she had to blink against the sting in her eyes. No. She wouldn’t be. But Chloe didn’t need to know that now.

Instead, she swallowed hard and ran her thumb again over the back of Chloe’s hand. She lifted her free hand, gently touching Chloe’s face, seeing the girl she first met all those years ago hidden under lines and age spots.

“Thank you for bursting into my shower,” she said, forcing her voice not to shake.

Chloe looked at her tenderly, reaching out to Beca’s face with her free hand. “Thank you for auditioning,” she replied, then had to pause to cough violently. Beca waited, each rasping breath Chloe took stabbing into her heart. Finally, Chloe recovered and looked at Beca determinedly.

“’Cups’ was always my favorite song,” she said.

Beca let out a little laugh at that. Of course it was.

“I love you, you know,” she said, finally unable to stop the tears from spilling out of her eyes.

Chloe’s thumb wiped away Beca’s tears, her own eyes filling. “I love you, too, Bec. Always have.”

Beca leaned forward, pressing her lips to Chloe’s. She could tell by the way Chloe kissed her back, they both knew it would be their last.

Beca never wanted to pull away.

But Chloe had to.

They separated, Beca frantically searching Chloe’s eyes. Her heart sank at what she saw.

She knew then. It was time.

Chloe knew too.

Chloe stared and stared, her eyes jumping all over Beca’s face, until her eyelids seemed to fall closed of their own accord. She leaned back slowly against the pillow, her fingers still moving weakly against Beca’s palm.

Beca started to sing softly, her voice not quite what it once was, but still decent, even with all the cracks.

_I got my ticket for the long way ‘round_

_Two bottle ‘a whiskey for the way_

Chloe’s lips twitched upward once at her song choice, then relaxed.

_And I sure would like some sweet company_

_And I’m leaving tomorrow, wha-do-ya say?_

_When I’m gone_

_When I’m gone_

_You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone_

_You’re gonna miss me by my hair_

_You’re gonna miss me everywhere, oh_

_You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone_

 

Chloe’s fingers stilled.

 


	7. Area 51, Now in Barden - G

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Pitch Perfect Horror Week Day 5 - Alien Abduction
> 
> Listen. Don't take this too seriously, because I definitely didn't.

Chloe opened her eyes. She’d been in the middle of a nightmare where DSM won Worlds and laughed at them from on stage, so she didn’t really mind being woken up.

She did, on the other hand, mind the bright light surrounding her. That was disconcerting. And so was the fact that she was literally floating out her bedroom window.

Chloe screamed. The sound echoed around her strangely, as though the weird light was somehow keeping her scream from travelling away. She thrashed, trying to get the light or _whatever_ it was to let her go, thank you very much, but it was useless. The light carried her farther from the Bella house – thank GOD she was wearing pajamas – and toward… what?

She stopped her struggling and tried to twist to see where she was headed. It wasn’t much help; all she saw was a massive dark shape, like some kind of airplane.

Wait.

No way.

Chloe looked around; she was traveling up. Into a big aircraft. Being transported by a beam of light.

Oh.

She blinked hard, shook her head, pinched herself, anything to wake up from this second nightmare. Except she didn’t wake up.

She was most definitely being abducted by aliens. There was no other rational explanation. The Bellas were going to freak when she told them.

 _If she got to tell them, that is._ That was the thought that made Chloe panic. She screamed again, kicking out at the light, scrambling to get away, forgetting that she’d almost definitely fall and break something if she did get away. But then, the dark mass seemed to open up; a door appeared, and the light drew her closer and closer, until, despite her struggles, she was drawn into the aircraft.

The light dropped her; she landed on a cool, hard surface with a thud, the hatch slamming closed behind her. She was on her feet instantly, prepared to fight whatever creepy alien got its tentacles anywhere near her.

Hoping she sounded braver than she felt, Chloe raised her fists and snarled, “Come at me!”

Nothing happened. Rude.

She was just about to turn around and go looking for the aliens herself when something sharp pricked the side of her neck. She gasped and jerked away, clapping a hand to her neck, but it was too late. She saw the empty syringe, held by a robotic arm, but instead of feeling alarmed by it, she felt… calm. She blinked, a little woozy, and watched the arm retract into the wall.

The strange sense of calm remained, though, even when a door on the opposite wall swung open with a metallic _whoosh_. There, waiting on the other side, were two huge, green _things_. They had massive lightbulb-shaped heads and enormous black eyes. Their nostrils (maybe nostrils?) were little slits, and their mouths were full of wicked-looking fangs. From the neck down, they wore silver suits, complete with purple capes for whatever reason. They had one standing leg, really more of a stump than anything, and three rubbery arms, each tipped with three fingers.

Chloe smiled at them serenely.

Whatever was in that syringe was some good stuff.

Without really thinking about it, she walked toward them. They emitted soft noises, kind of like bubbles popping, as she drew nearer. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but she could tell they didn’t want to hurt her.

Or maybe that was the calm serum. Whatever. She didn’t care.

She got closer, then even closer, until she stood right in front of them. They towered over her, maybe standing nine feet tall, and she vaguely imagined how funny Beca would look next to them. The thought made her smile; the creatures must have taken this as encouragement, for they drew aside and sort of gestured her between them.

Again, with no consideration for her own safety, Chloe walked between them and saw she’d entered some kind of hallway. She walked straight ahead, taking in the white walls decorated with graphics of planets. She took in the photos with disinterest. It looked like all the planets she knew were there, as well as several others she didn’t. Something was written above the pictures, at least she assumed; it wasn’t in English.

The hallway led her to a door propped open with a familiar-looking shoe. She glanced back at the beings to see them hopping along beside her on their one leg; one of them sort of nodded toward the door, so Chloe pulled it open and stepped inside.

She’d been expecting a lab, or maybe a control panel for the ship, but what she saw surprised her even more; all of the Bellas were standing there in a sort of circle. Beca, Amy, Stacie, Flo, Jessica, Ashley and Cynthia-Rose. Even Emily was there; the ship must have made a stop at the dorms. They all looked back at Chloe with mild disinterest, though Chloe was sure Beca’s eyes seemed to spark more than anyone else’s when they saw each other.

And in the center of it all was Lilly, who, instead of having the slightly dopey look of the others, appeared bright and aware. She wore one shoe – the other held the door open.

“Hey, Chloe,” she said. That almost threw Chloe out of her stupor – Lilly, speaking at normal volume – but then the calm washed in again. “If you want to join our circle? I’m just introducing everyone.”

Numbly, Chloe walked forward and took the open space next to Beca, who turned to give her a lazy smile.

“Now that we’re all here,” Lilly addressed the green beings in the doorway, “you can come meet them.”

The aliens hopped forward on their stump legs, looking a little ridiculous as they moved to join Lilly in the center of the circle.

Lilly pointed to Chloe first. “This is Chloe. She’s a great singer, and is our co-captain, along with Beca,” she said clearly, pointing at Beca next. “They are both very nice people, even if Beca pretends to be grumpy. Also, those two are totally in love with each other, even if they don’t know it yet.”

Something in Chloe’s chest stirred but calmed almost immediately. She glanced over at Beca to see blue eyes trained on hers, but it only lasted a moment before Beca looked back to the center of the circle of Bellas.

The green beings seemed to converse, little bubble sounds filling the air for a while before they fell silent and turned to look at Lilly almost expectantly.

Lilly then raised a hand to point at Amy, who was on Beca’s other side. “This is Amy. She’s very funny but doesn’t like cardio. She’s also good at singing fast parts and bringing life into our set.”

The aliens again bubbled at each other for a while before returning their attention to Lilly. And so it continued, with Lilly introducing each of the Bellas in turn to the beings and then waiting while they seemed to talk. It didn’t take long; Lilly was efficient.

At the end, she turned to the beings and said, “Now you’ve met them all, we’d like to ask for a favor: help us win Worlds next week. I’ve told you how great they all are, and now I’ll leave the judgment to you. Thank you.”

Lilly stepped back to give the beings some room to talk. She sent Chloe one last, beaming smile, then everything went dark.

* * *

Chloe woke up in her own bed the next morning, head pounding. She felt awful and had no idea why. They hadn’t been drinking last night, and the last thing she remembered was crawling into bed after what had been a long day.

Wait. Chloe sat up, rubbing her eyes. She’d had some kind of weird dream involving lights and Lilly… but the more she chased it around her memory, the more it eluded her. Damn.

She shrugged, her headache easing. It couldn’t have been that important.

After taking a few minutes to wake up fully and make herself presentable, Chloe made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She was surprised to see all of the other Bellas down there already eating breakfast, even Beca, who was notorious for hating mornings.

“Hey guys,” she yawned, scratching absently at an itchy patch on the side of her neck. She figured a bug must have gotten her in the middle of the night.

Grumpy grumbles met her greeting. She sat down at the table and blearily picked at the pancake Stacie set down in front of her.

They all ate in silence, which while not unusual, felt somehow different. Lilly was sure smiley, Chloe noted with mild alarm.

“So…” Beca broke the quiet. “I had the weirdest dream last night.”

Chloe glanced up, only to see the other Bellas looking at Beca as well.

Cynthia-Rose nodded. “I did too. Something about bubbles, I think.”

Beca frowned at her, then said, “That’s weird.”

They returned to silence, Chloe chewing her pancake happily.

Talk of strange dreams didn’t come up again, and eventually, the quiet turned into the typical rumble of nine girls talking to one another. It wasn’t until Chloe was taking her dishes to the sink that she finally heard it.

“I’m glad you finally met my parents,” Lilly whispered.

Chloe dropped her plate.


	8. Friday the 12th - T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Pitch Perfect Horror Week Day 6 - Fears Come to Life.
> 
> It's set sometime between PP1 and PP2, and is definitely cannon-divergent.

Beca knows she probably shouldn’t have pissed off the creepy old crone in the witchcraft store. But honestly. The whole thing had been utterly absurd.

Really, it was all Jesse’s fault. He’d brought her to the ridiculous little shop in Atlanta, under the delusion that some witchcraft was just what she needed to finally buck up the nerve to tell Chloe she was in love with her.

“Seriously, as your lesbro, I have to do this,” he’d insisted.

She really should have known better, especially after finding out that he’d originally gotten the idea from a bumper sticker he’s seen that read, “Sorry I missed church – I was too busy practicing witchcraft and becoming a lesbian.”

One should never take advice from bumper stickers.

She hadn’t known where they were headed – “Some place in Atlanta,” Jesse had said vaguely when she had climbed into his car that morning – so she’d had no chance to save herself when Jesse had pulled up in front of “Witchy Witchcrafts: For All Spellbinding Needs.”

The store had been pretty over the top, at least in her opinion. There had been all sorts of “magical” devices hanging from the ceiling, tons of colorful books on the shelves, Tarot cards on display, and voodoo dolls situated strategically around the room. The shop owner, a hunched old biddy dressed all in black and with a single front tooth in her mouth, had immediately offered to read her palm and grant her a magic spell. For a hefty price, of course.

In hindsight, Beca probably shouldn’t have laughed as loudly as she had.

The woman had been – perhaps understandably – offended, and had started muttering about Beca’s “dingy aura,” “empty energies,” and “shallow soul.”

That’s when Beca had snapped.

She doesn’t really remember what she’d said – and Jesse refused to repeat it – but she vaguely recalls the words “scamming leathery hag” flying from her mouth.

To perhaps no one’s surprise, the decrepit old crypt-keeper had placed a curse on Beca right then and there, guaranteeing that her worst fear would come alive. Whatever that means.

Before Beca could (incredibly sarcastically) ask the witch to clarify the terms of her curse, Jesse had wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up, and carried her from the building.

So, yeah. It had been a bit disastrous. And she still wasn’t any closer to telling Chloe how she feels.

Beca knows rationally that nothing the coffin-dodger did could make any difference. Curses aren’t real. The whole thing is a load of hooey. But she can’t help, as Jesse drops her off back on Barden’s campus in time for her afternoon music productions course, glancing around, just to make sure no one is following her.

The thing is. She knows exactly what will appear if the old woman’s curse comes true. It’s all she can think about.

It’s annoying.

She doesn’t like it. Even as she walks across the quad toward the building her class is in, she can’t escape the growing unease rising in her gut. Her eyes flick side to side, searching for what she’s afraid might be there.

She feels like she’s being watched, which, _dumb_. It’s the middle of the day on a relatively large campus; there are people everywhere, and at least some of them are probably glancing at her as she walks by. But this is different. She can feel a heavy gaze on her back, sending shivers down her spine and raising the hair on her arms. She walks faster, even though she _knows_ curses aren’t real and the whole thing is stupid.

Still, though. Better safe than slashed.

She reaches the building her class is in, stepping inside behind a group of girls. She glances over her shoulder as she walks, making sure no one followed her in.

This is ridiculous.

She turns to watch where she’s going, and what she sees makes her heart stop; there’s a man kneeling off to the side wearing a blue maintenance suit. Her footsteps stutter and her breath catches – should she scream? Run? – but before she can do anything, the man straightens up and looks directly at her.

Beca’s cheeks puff as she sighs in relief; he’s a custodian, the same one she typically sees around the building. She’s being paranoid.

Annoyed with herself, Beca brushes past the custodian with a tight smile and reaches her classroom quickly. She finds her usual seat by the window and falls into it, resting her elbows on her desk to cradle her head in her hands. The whole thing is absurd. She’s letting what that old bag said get to her, even though it was obviously fake and said out of anger.

The whole thing is absurd, and now she’s imagining things.

Shaking her head at herself, Beca sits up and reaches for her phone, pulling up the calendar to check her schedule for the rest of the day in an effort to put the curse out of her mind. It isn’t bad; just one more class after this one, then home. She doesn’t even have Bellas rehearsal, which is a relief.

Without really meaning to, Beca finds herself staring at the date. _For Christ’s sake,_ she thinks grumpily, _it’s not even Friday the 13 th. It’s Friday the 12th. No reason to get creeped out._

The professor walks into the classroom, a stack of papers under one arm, and Beca reluctantly puts her phone in her pocket. Maybe sitting and listening to her class will help calm her down.

Except it doesn’t because the class is boring as all hell – she already knows this stuff – and her mind wanders. All she can think about is that blue maintenance suit and a movie Jesse once forced her to watch. She stares at the back of the head of the guy in front of her, zoning out completely.

A sudden movement catches her eye.

Beca glances out the window automatically and sees it. Him. He’s standing far enough away outside that he doesn’t draw the attention of anyone else in the class, but still close enough she can make out his features. He’s huge and bald, probably almost seven feet tall, wearing boots and a filthy blue maintenance suit. His face, though, is concealed behind a hole-filled, white hockey mask. He isn’t holding his axe, but she knows it has to be around somewhere.

He’s staring directly at her.

Beca’s stomach jolts like she’s been punched and she freezes in her chair, fingers gripping the edge of her desk. No way. It’s not real. It – he – can’t be real. She blinks hard, hoping she’s imagining him.

When she opens her eyes, he’s stepped even closer to the building.

She has to fight against the urge to scream. She doesn’t know whether to run or stay put; no one else in the class has noticed him, but people walking outside certainly have. He’s getting some weird looks from students as they walk by, but they probably assume he’s a janitor or that it’s some kind of prank.

His gaze never wavers from her.

She looks to the professor, then to the door of her class. Should she leave? Where would she go?

Panicking, she glances back out the window, half-expecting his mask to be pressed against the glass, but there’s nothing. He’s gone. Her eyes search through the crowd of students walking past, but there’s no sign of him.

She knows that she hadn’t been imagining him; other people had definitely seen him. Her heart races and her palms sweat; she really needs to pee. This is horrible. He’s going to pop up again, she just knows it. He’ll come through the window or break down the door and go directly at her and – someone in her class sneezes, making her jump violently. Several of her classmates turn to stare at her. She smiles at them shakily, trying not to look insane. _Nothing to see here, just a panic attack because some murderer is trying to kill me. It’s fine._

She can’t walk home. There’s no way.

Trying to be sneaky about it because her prof has a weird policy on devices, she reaches for her phone, still in her pocket. She’ll text Jesse, or Chloe, or any of the Bellas really. Anyone with a car who could potentially come pick her up after her class, because no way is she headed to her Statistics course after this one.

Chloe’s texting conversation is open and she’s halfway through typing out a message before she pauses. Texting Chloe – or any of them, really – would be putting them in danger. They would have to come to campus, where the man is. She bites her lip as she realizes; even being around her would put them in danger, because the curse is on her. He is after her, and her alone. As terrifying at that is, she prefers it to stay that way.

She’ll have to run for it. There’s no other option.

Beca knows what she has to do. She’ll skip her next class, run home, grab a bag and pack the essentials. Then, she can catch a cab back to Atlanta and force the old hag to take this weird curse off of her. Perfect. It’ll work. And if it doesn’t, well, she can stay in Atlanta until she figures out how to get rid of the masked man, because she isn’t going to let him linger around the Bella house.

She wants to scream.

Should she leave her class now? Get a head start? She’s halfway out of her chair before she realizes that leaving early is a dumb idea; if she waits for her class – and other classes at that same time – to end, there will be more of a crowd for her to use as cover to escape.

Drawing in a deep breath through her nose, she forces herself to remain seated and remain calm. She has to wait. He won’t burst into her class; there are way too many of them. Even if he gets to her, he’d have to take out her entire class to escape. No. She’s safe where she is.

The seconds tick by slowly. She stares at the clock, simultaneously begging it to speed up and slow down. Her 50-minute class moves by in strange leaps; one second, the professor is droning on about production techniques, then the next he’s on a tangent about his wife, and then he’s back on task. Finally, after what feels like both forever and too soon, her class is over and everyone around her is standing up.

Mechanically, Beca stands and grabs her bag. Her head is swimming and her heart pounds in her ears; all she can think is _run, run, run._ Once out in the hallway, she lets herself be absorbed into the crowd and crush of students in the hallway, rather than keeping her distance like she normally would. Her head swivels so much she probably looks like she has some sort of twitch, but there’s no sign of a hockey mask or maintenance suit.

She lets the sea of students carry her out of the building and back onto the quad. Still looking around, she breaks away from the crowd to slide between two bushes (there are some benefits of being a small person) and heads in the direction of the Bella house.

Glancing over her shoulder, she doesn’t see any sign of him. She risks breaking into a jog, then a full-out sprint. It’s a little awkward, because she’s half-crouching and trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible while running, but if it keeps him from noticing her, it’s worth it.

Her breath comes in harsh gaps, her legs burn, and there’s a stitch in her left side, but she keeps going. She needs to get home, get a bag, and get out before he finds her.

Thankfully, the Bella house is close to campus; she’s there in minutes. She flies to the front door, fumbles with her keys in the lock, and flings it open. Flinging herself over the threshold, she slams the door behind her, locks it, and immediately presses her eye to the peephole. He’s not there. She hadn’t been followed.

She sags in relief, exhaling a noisy huff. She’s safe.

“Hey!”

“AAUUGHHH!!” Beca screams and whirls; she trips over her own feet and falls over.

Chloe screams back, equally startled, but she manages to stay upright.

“WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?” Beca bellows from the floor, absolutely terrified.

“Because you screamed!” Chloe shrieks back.

“Oh my God,” Beca sighs, bringing a shaky hand to her forehead. “This can’t be happening.”

Chloe bends over and reaches out a hand to pull Beca back up to her feet. “What’s happening?” she asks. “Are you okay?”

Beca walks further into the house, eyes scanning for anything amiss. “Um…” she trails off, unsure of how much to tell Chloe.

“Beca?”

The house seems secure, so that’s good. She should really just head upstairs and pack, as was her original plan, but she hadn’t counted on Chloe being home, obviously skipping her Russian Lit class yet again. That complicates things; what if she’d put Chloe in danger by coming back? At least none of the others are home, as they should all still be in class.

“Beca. What is happening?” Chloe repeats, an edge to her voice now as she stands in the middle of their living room, her eyes on Beca as she peers anxiously out the windows.

Beca pauses before looking out the last side window. She grimaces, now wondering if she should take Chloe with her to Atlanta. Maybe that would be safer than leaving her here, but then, what if the man just keeps following her? But what if he comes to the house looking for her?

“Beca Mitchell, you answer me this instant!” Chloe actually stomps her foot this time.

Beca sighs, still unsure, but she says, “Look, Chloe, there’s someone…”

Her voice fades away as she looks out the last window. He’s there. Standing not even 20 feet away on the sidewalk, still in that blue maintenance suit and hockey mask, but now carrying a long axe with a stained blade. They make eye contact through the holes in his mask.

The air rushes from Beca’s lungs and she almost falls again, her knees turning to jelly. She forces herself to turn back to Chloe and shouts, “He’s after me, Chlo, look! We need to leave _now_!”

Instead of appearing panicked, though, Chloe’s brows furrow in confusion. She asks, “What are you talking about?” and moves closer to Beca at the window.

Automatically, Beca grabs her arm and tries to drag her away before the man can see her too, but it’s too late; Chloe’s gazing out the window.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Beca tries to reassure her, still tugging on her arm. “We can run from him, we can get in your car and I can fix this, I –”

“Beca,” Chloe interrupts, still looking out the window. “There’s no one outside.”

“What?!” Beca’s face snaps around so quickly she hears her neck pop. She stares out the window at the exact place she’d last seen him, but he’s gone. Vanished. Poof.

“No, no, no,” Beca babbles, wave after wave of terror washing through her. “He’s – he’s in the house, or hiding, or, I don’t know. We just need to leave, okay?” and she tugs on Chloe’s arm again, desperate for her to understand.

“No, not ‘okay,’” Chloe says, digging her heels into the floor. “Beca. You’re seriously scaring me. There’s no one there.”

“It’s – but –” Beca splutters, trying to get Chloe to understand. For a horrifying moment, she wonders if she’s seeing things, but then remembers that other students on campus had obviously seen him. He’s there, just hiding.

“What you need,” Chloe speaks over her, “is some food and juice. Your blood sugar must be low, yeah?”

“Oh, but–”

“Beca,” Chloe says firmly, dragging her to the kitchen with surprising strength, “you need to sit down and eat something. You’re all pale and sweaty.”

“Chloe,” Beca says with a forced calm as Chloe practically shoves her into a chair and starts digging in the fridge, “You have to listen to me. I pissed off a witch, and she cursed me so my fears come to life, okay?”

Chloe hums, only half-listening.

“And now that fear is a giant dude with an axe trying to murder me. He’s been following me around all afternoon!” her voice rises hysterically as her stomach churns with terror.

“Do you want a banana?” Chloe asks, stepping away from the fridge and closing it.

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Beca groans, “Have you even been listening to me?”

Chloe nods, grabbing a banana from the counter and setting it, along with some ham and cheese on a plate in front of Beca. “I heard you,” she says. “But I really find it hard to believe that some curse is making a guy with an axe chase you.”

Beca wants to scream; she and Chloe should both be packing and running for the hills.

She stands up from her chair and, ignoring Chloe’s pointed glare, says, “It’s true, and we need to leave. I’m going to pack a bag for both of us, so is there anything you need?”

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Beca, I really think you’re imagining it.”

But Beca’s done listening; she half-jogs out of the kitchen and starts up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The sound of shattering glass and a bloodcurdling scream makes her trip. She tumbles down the steps to land hard on her back, the wind rushing from her lungs. But she doesn’t care about that, because from where she’s laying she can see the cause of the commotion, and it makes her blood run cold.

The man in the hockey mask is climbing through their broken kitchen window, using the sink to pull himself through with one hand while the other clutches the axe. Chloe’s already moving; she lunges for the plate of snacks Beca had left at the table and hurls it like a frisbee at his head, the ham and cheese spinning from it and flying across the room. Beca kind of wishes Chloe had gone for the knives instead, but they were right next to the sink, so that wasn’t really an option. The plate crashes into his mask, shattering on impact, but it only makes him pause and turn his face to Chloe.

Shit.

“Shit!” Chloe swears and sprints to Beca’s side. “Get up, get up, we have to go!”

Absurdly, Beca wants to say, “I told you so,” but she’s still winded, so all she can do is wheeze as for the second time that day, Chloe hauls her to her feet. Chloe drags her up the stairs at top speed and onto the second landing. She’s headed for her bedroom, but Beca stops her; that’s the first place the man will look.

Instead, Beca pulls that door shut loudly, hoping he’ll hear the slam, and she tugs Chloe the opposite direction on the landing and toward the hallway supply closet. Chloe hesitates outside the closet door for an instant before they hear the unmistakable sound of heavy boots hitting a tiled floor. Immediately, Chloe springs back to action and bundles them both into the small closet. Beca eases the door closed behind them quietly, not wanting him to hear the telltale _click_ of the latch, and they’re plunged into darkness amongst rolls of toilet paper, soap, and extra shampoo.

“A closet? Really?” Chloe’s frantic whisper fills the space between them, her breaths coming in gasps. Strangely, her panic serves to calm Beca, bringing her mind into sharp focus.

“He’d have checked your room,” Beca breathes, finally feeling air refill her lungs after her tumble down the stairs. “We have to be quiet.”

“But my room has a window!” Chloe whisper-shrieks. “That’s where I was headed! Beca, there’s a man with an axe chasing us!”

“I told you so,” Beca blurts before she can stop herself. A window. Duh. That _would_ have been better.

“Shut _up_ ,” Chloe hisses. “He’s coming up the stairs.”                                                                                                                     

Sure enough, Beca can hear every heavy footfall up the steps. She feels Chloe shrink back to press herself against the back wall of the closet and she shifts so she’s between Chloe and the door. Hopefully, if the man really just wants her, he’ll leave Chloe alone.

“Oh no you don’t,” Chloe breathes into the back of her neck, and Beca feels arms wrap around her waist and pull her back until she’s right next to Chloe. “No heroics today, Bec.”

She wants to argue, but they can’t talk anymore; the man has reached the landing. She hears his thick breaths, rattling through the mask. She covers her own mouth with a hand, stifling any noises she might make, and feels Chloe do the same next to her.

She hears him walk down the hall, right past their closet and to the furthest bedroom beyond them. The sound of lightly squeaking door hinges reaches her ears and she’s never been more grateful that no other Bellas are home.

He doesn’t take long to search Jessica and Ashley’s room, and Lilly and Cynthia-Rose’s is next. Another opening door, then silence while he must be looking for them. He steps next to Stacie’s bedroom, which is across the hall from their supply closet. Again, it doesn’t take him long and she hears him step out of the bedroom.

The footsteps stop right outside their closet, and she can see his shadow at the crack under the door. Beca looks around frantically, but unless toilet paper can be used as a weapon, they have nothing to defend themselves with. Chloe is stiff as a board next to her, her fingers digging into Beca’s waist. Beca is sure the man must hear their hearts beating; hers is hammering against her rib cage traitorously.

She can picture him standing outside, staring at the door. Can picture him reaching a gloved hand forward, the other raising the axe in preparation. Can imagine the door handle moving, the door swinging open, the axe descending.

She wants to cry and throw up.

But he walks away. By some miracle, the man’s footsteps head away from their closet, moving beyond the stairs and to the bathroom, after which he would reach Chloe’s room.

Chloe sags beside her; Beca glances over. Her eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness to make out the relief in Chloe’s expression, and the sweat on her forehead. Guilt floods her veins; this is all her fault.

“Listen,” Beca whispers as quietly as she can, Chloe’s eyes finding hers. “He’s only after me. I bet if I make a break for it, he’ll follow me, and you can –”

But Chloe’s already shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. You can’t go out there, that’s completely insane.”

“Chloe, I’m trying to save –”

“I know, and I’m telling you it’s not happening. Don’t even think about it,” Chloe glares at her, hard. Beca’s stunned by the fire she sees in those blue eyes.

“If we run, we run together,” Chloe says firmly. “Got it?”

Annoyed, Beca nods reluctantly. Chloe shouldn’t have to take the fall for her stupid mistake, but there’s no time to change her mind.

“Fine, let’s head for Ashley and Jessica’s window once he gets to your room, okay?” Beca whispers. “I think it’s our only chance, and he’s already looked there.”

She sees the fear in Chloe’s face, but she knows they have to move. He’ll almost certainly search the closet after finishing in Chloe’s room.

“Okay,” Chloe whispers, her voice cracking.

Together they listen closely; Beca hears him leave the bathroom, his footsteps travelling to Chloe’s room. The door opens with a squeak and they hear him walk in.

“Now!” Beca hisses, and she opens the closet door slowly, careful to not let it hit the wall. Chloe flies past her and into the far room down the hall. Beca steps out, closes the closet door quietly, heart in her mouth, and follows Chloe as silently as possible.

Amazingly, he doesn’t seem to have noticed them, as he’s still in Chloe’s room. Beca joins Chloe at the window in Ashley and Jessica’s room, helping her to ease the glass up quietly. Luckily, the screen pops out easily, falling with a soft crunch into the bushes below.

“Dangle and drop, yeah?” Chloe asks, moving aside for Beca to go first.

“Yeah, but I think you should go –”

“No time, Beca, just get out the damn window.”

 Being interrupted is getting irritating. Nevertheless, Beca eases her legs out the window, and Chloe helps her get turned around. She lowers herself gradually, thankful for Bellas workouts, until she’s dangling by her fingertips. She doesn’t let herself think about it, but drops to the ground immediately, landing in a crouch. It doesn’t feel great, but she doesn’t break anything.

She waits anxiously for Chloe. It takes much too long for comfort, but soon Chloe’s legs are dangling outside, then the rest of her body, and she drops to the ground beside Beca, staggering a little on impact.

“See?” Chloe huffs out once she’s steady. “Nothing to it.”

“I give it a ten out of ten. Now let’s get the fuck out of here,” Beca says dryly. “We’ll take a cab or something, I don’t care.”

“Sounds good to me,” Chloe agrees, and they start jogging around the house and to the road.

Except.

They skid to a stop, Beca clutching Chloe’s arm; the old crone from the Atlanta shop is standing in their front yard facing them, a smug smile on her wrinkled face.

“Apologize,” she croaks out, staring into Beca’s soul.

“That’s all you have to say?” Beca spits back. “After you try to kill me, you want me to apologize?”

Chloe tugs on her arm urgently. “Beca, just do it,” she whines. “It’ll make it all stop.”

Beca grimaces; she doesn’t like the idea of groveling to this old bat, crazy axe murderer or not.

“Do it,” the witch croaks out. “Or witness as I make all your friends’ fears come to life, too.”

The witch waves her arm and horrible visions flash in front of Beca’s eyes, one after the other: Emily sprinting away from giant, hairy spiders – Amy stranded on the roof of a high building, paralyzed by the height – Flo crouching, her arms protecting her head as silvery, wispy ghosts swoop around her – Cynthia-Rose screaming in terror as zombies erupt from the ground in front of her – Jessica holding a long wooden stake and crouching behind a wall as a man with long fangs searches for her in the house – Ashley running from a grotesque, fully costumed clown with a chainsaw – Lilly doing the “stop, drop, and roll” as hundreds of Monarch butterflies land on her body – Stacie in a straightjacket, babbling nonsense as she’s led to a van by two large men dressed in white – Aubrey answering a door and being handed her father’s folded up flag – Jessie trapped in his bedroom by a massive fire – and finally Chloe, standing alone and watching an alternative Beca, both more beautiful and frightening than the real Beca, pull up on a massive black Harley Davidson motorcycle, some faceless person seated behind her; Beca watches as the vision of herself twists around on the bike to press their lips together in a sensual kiss. A diamond glimmers on her left ring finger.

And then it stops.

The visions leave as soon as they’d come and Beca falls to her knees, disoriented.

“Bec, Beca, get up, we have to run, he’s coming –” Chloe’s hands scrabble at her upper arms, trying to hoist her up. She hadn’t seen what Beca had seen, hadn’t had to witness the Bella’s worst fears. Beca looks up at the witch staring at her, then glances back beyond Chloe to see the man in the blue maintenance suit walking toward them across the yard, axe held high; he’d found them.

“Fine!” Beca yells, staring into the witch’s black eyes. “I apologize! I’m sorry I exploded at you and called you a scamming leathery hag! I’m sorry!”

The old woman smiles down at her sweetly. “Yes,” she says. “You are.”

Beca hears Chloe’s scream, and is thrown sideways by a shove; the ghost of an axe swooshes down where she’d been kneeling, vaporizing along its path. Beca cranes her neck over her shoulder to see the man in the maintenance suit standing behind her, but fading away, soon dissolving away into nothingness.

Beyond where he’d stood, Chloe stands staring at the spot he’d disappeared in shock. Warmth rushes through Beca; it’s over, and Chloe’s safe.

“That’s all I wanted,” the old woman’s voice cuts through the air. “Don’t insult me or my craft again, child.”

The woman turns away and waves her arm once. Seemingly out of nowhere, a black hearse pulls up to the curb. She hobbles over to it, back hunched with age, then pulls open the passenger door and climbs in. With one last glance at Beca, she rasps out, “Learn from what you’ve seen. At least one of those fears can be altered, if you know what to do.”

She hauls the door closed behind her with a _thud_ , and the hearse pulls away and out of sight.

Beca lets her body collapse to the ground with a groan and throws an arm over her eyes. “You okay?” she asks loudly, feeling Chloe’s eyes on her.

“Yeah,” Chloe’s timid voice answers. “Are you?”

“Ugh.”

She hears soft footsteps, so different from the man’s clunky boots, head toward her. There’s a pause, then the sound of movement; Beca lifts her arm and cracks one eye open in time to see Chloe crouch, then sprawl out on her back next to her so they’re both laying in the grass.

“So that was a thing,” Chloe says, her voice surprisingly steady.

“Yep,” Beca replies, popping the ‘p’. “Are you freaking out?”

“Not really,” Chloe answers thoughtfully. “Though, in the future, I suggest not offending an actual witch with actual magic powers.”

“Thanks for that,” Beca deadpans.

“Mmm.”

They lie on the ground in silence for a few beats. Beca’s mind spins; she’s shaken by the horrific scenes the woman had implanted in her mind. People’s worst fears are private, and while things like zombies and giant spiders are less personal, the fear of a parent dying or of mental illness is on a different level. And Chloe’s fear….

“What did she mean?” Chloe’s voice interrupts her thoughts. “What did she show you? You kind of went all weird for a few seconds there.”

Beca blows out a slow breath, not sure what to say. Though, she supposes, in this case, the truth might be the best.

“I saw everyone’s fears,” she says slowly, carefully. “Everyone’s worst fears come to life, like mine did.”

She feels something tickling her hand and looks down between their bodies to see Chloe’s fingers toying with her own.

“Did you see mine?” Chloe asks in a forced casual tone that makes Beca wince.

“I… yeah. I did,” Beca answers, her face warming at the admission. She knows what it means. She’d been stupid not to realize sooner.

Chloe’s fingers shake against hers. Beca almost wants to laugh; even while being chased by a masked man with an axe, Chloe’s fingers hadn’t trembled like they do now.

“So, you know, then,” Chloe’s voice is more strained than it had been even following her nodes surgery. “How I feel.”

Beca isn’t good with words. She knows that about herself. So, rather than speaking and risking saying something stupid, Beca props herself up on her elbow and leans to hover her lips an inch over Chloe’s. She feels Chloe’s gasp, can practically hear her brain whirring, and Beca wants nothing more than to close the distance between them but she forces herself to wait, wanting Chloe to make the decision.

After a long, agonizing heartbeat, Chloe tilts her face up to press their lips together in a kiss that warns Beca’s body and sends tingles down into her limbs. One hand lands on her hip and another cups her cheek and Beca can’t help it; she smiles into the kiss and feels Chloe do the same. It’s unorthodox, maybe, but it’s pretty much the best kiss of all time.

They break apart when the kiss comes to a natural end, and Beca lets herself fall onto her back again, though she scoots until her side is pressed right against Chloe’s.

“I think it’s safe to say I know, yeah,” Beca says with a smile, turning her head to look at Chloe. “Is that okay with you?”

Chloe beams back. “Yeah. I think I can live with this.”

“Good,” Beca nods seriously. “Because now that we’ve done that, I can’t imagine anything else.”

They stay like that for a while, just looking at each other. If it were anyone besides Chloe, Beca figures it would have been weird as hell, but with Chloe, everything seems natural.

Which is why the sound of a car door slamming startles them both. Beca picks up her head to see Stacie stepping away from her car and striding toward the Bella house. She barely spares them a glance, only calling out “Weirdos,” before walking through the front door.

“They’ll be excited when we tell them,” Chloe whispers, and Beca nods. If she knows the Bellas, news of her and Chloe finally getting together will be the event of the year.

“Umm,” Stacie’s voice sounds from inside the house. “Why is the window broken?”

Beca grins; she has quite the story to tell.

 


	9. Shine Bright (Like Cubic Zirconia) - E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created for Tumblr prompt "The diamond on your engagement ring is fake."  
> Contains a lap dance and smut, so if you're not a fan, I'd skip this one. Also, the French was an idea stolen from Tumblr user isthemusictoblame (who also goes by iPhone on here).

“This cake is horrible,” Beca grumbled around the mouthful of what was supposed to be carrot cake but tasted like orange chalk.

“You said that about the last five,” Jesse sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

He looked tired, Beca thought. It annoyed her.

This whole thing had been his idea from the get-go. He’d been the one to get a ring and drop down on one knee only a week after the Worlds competition. The timing had been shitty, too; she’d already told Chloe and Amy she would move to New York with them, so she’d felt like a dick for cancelling the Original Plan (as she called it) to move to LA with Jesse instead. They’d been understanding about it, thank god, but she hadn’t missed the disappointment and sadness in Chloe’s eyes and the accusation in Amy’s.

It wasn’t _her_ fault, though, because it had been all Jesse’s idea. Maybe if he’d talked to her about it beforehand instead of just jumping in and assuming she was on the same page, he’d have realized it wasn’t the best move to make.

She’d still said yes, though. So, in a way, she had kind of agreed to all this. The move to LA, the ensuing job hunt and successive hiring at BFD Records, and the spur-of-the-moment wedding planning, because for some reason, Jesse wanted the whole thing to happen right away. Since then, Beca had also agreed to the venue choice, the save-the-dates, the table seating, the band, and, yes, the cake selection. Which, normally, should have been a good time – who _doesn’t_ love sitting and eating cake for hours? – but nothing tasted right and something was _missing_.

“Perhaps the red velvet?” their wedding planner, Amber, suggested in a clipped tone.

Beca’s irritation only grew and she chewed with a renewed vengeance.

She hadn’t seen the point of a wedding planner. They were overpriced, bossy, controlling, and, especially in Amber’s case, _annoying_. If she had it her way, they wouldn’t even have a wedding planner. They didn’t need one. Not when she had Chloe Beale as her Maid of Honor and the rest of the Bellas as her bridesmaids. They knew her better than anyone else, and they would have actually listened to her, unlike the blithering idiot standing in front of her.

Not that Chloe and the rest of the Bellas could be much help in the wedding planning department when they lived across the country.

LA didn’t _smell_ very good.

“Emily doesn’t like red velvet cake,” Beca reminded Amber and Jesse.

Beside her, Jesse rolled his eyes impatiently, but Beca didn’t care. She’d been sure to ask the Bellas their cake preferences before the tasting for this exact reason. Their opinions mattered to her, especially when she was supremely indifferent to the whole thing. Was cake choice really such an important part of the wedding that they needed to sample more than 30 different kinds?

No. It was not.

Amber’s lips visibly thinned, her knuckles turning white around her clipboard. Beca watched her with amusement, wondering just how far she could push her.

God, she hated wedding planners. It was one day of a person’s life – a few hours, really. Did there need to be an entire career path dedicated to the profession?

No. There did not.

“Beca, it doesn’t matter what Emily likes,” Jesse said, obviously forcing himself to remain calm. “What matters is what we like.”

Beca shrugged. “It matters to me what Emily likes,” she said stubbornly. “I want my bridesmaids to be happy.”

Amber cleared her throat loudly and said, “Well, when you have _that many_ bridesmaids, that’s going to be a challenge. Not to be rude,” she added with an extremely fake, simpering giggle that made Beca clench her jaw.

LA wasn’t as sunny as she’d thought it was supposed to be.

She had to take a deep breath. Amber had made it no secret that she thought 9 bridesmaids and a Maid of Honor was too many. Realistically, Beca knew that it was a little over the top, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit that to anyone, much less to Amber. And besides, it wasn’t like they weren’t paired on Jesse’s side with the former Trebles.

“Yeah, well, sorry I have friends,” Beca grumbled. Then, out of spite, she added, “Maybe they should have been here. Or at least, Chloe.”

Jesse sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Served him right for dragging her across the country on a stupid romantic whim.

“That’s going to be hard when your entire wedding party is across the country,” Amber quipped, then added, “Not to be rude.”

The truth of the statement sliced into Beca like a knife. She missed them, more than she cared to admit. She missed Chloe the most.

“Look, Beca, maybe with a different frosting?” Jesse pleaded, leaning forward.

“You know, Amber,” Beca drawled, ignoring Jesse and leaning back in her chair, “I’m pretty sure Chloe would have at least let me play _my_ music at _my own_ wedding. And she’d have let me dance how I wanted.”

Amber’s expression soured further. “Not to be rude,” she started tersely, “but we’ve been over this. A professional band will bring more to the table than your… little projects.”

Beca opened her mouth to respond, only for Amber to lift a hand to cut her off.

Amber plowed on, “And I know you didn’t enjoy the dance lessons – you made that _abundantly_ clear – but don’t you want your first dance together to be a statement rather than a sideshow?”

“Have we tried the chocolate yet?” Jesse tried, searching the table of cakes frantically.

“I’m just saying that my Maid of Honor should be present for big decisions,” Beca replied icily.

Amber’s lips twitched upward into what looked like an excruciatingly painful smile. “I think I know my way around wedding planning more than some friend you picked off the street. Not to be rude.”

LA didn’t feel as welcoming as she thought it would be. It was missing something.

 “Amber,” Beca fired back in the same simpering tone Amber was so fond of, “would you please fuck off? Not to be rude,” she added as an afterthought.

Amber looked like she’d been slapped; her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open somewhat comically. A deafening silence fell over the room as Beca sat staring smugly at her wedding planner, waiting for the inevitable explosion.

“Did you try the coconut and lime?” Jesse asked loudly, clearly trying to break the tension as he steered the plate with cake right into Beca’s face, all but shoving it up her nose.

Beca jerked back sharply. Glaring at him, she hissed, “Chloe’s allergic to coconut.”

As they always did, Jesse’s eyes hardened at the mention of Chloe; Beca immediately went on the defense, ready to defend her best friend to the death. Before Jesse could even get a word out, though, Amber slammed her clipboard down onto the table with a deafening crash that caught the attention of everyone in a ten-mile radius.

“I’m done,” she spat, glaring hard at Beca. “I’m done dealing with your bullshit. I quit. You are the most stubborn, rude, and unfeeling wretch I have ever had the misfortune to work for.”

“Thank you,” Beca replied easily.

Amber’s face turned an interesting shade of puce. Her eyes flicked down to Beca’s left hand, which rested on the table; for a moment, Beca wondered if she was about to go for a cake knife.

Instead, however, Amber simply smirked, drew herself up to her full height, and declared pompously, “The diamond on your engagement ring is fake.”

She spun on her black stiletto heel and marched out of the room, back ramrod straight and head held high as she shoved the door open with an almighty crash.

Beca stared after her, confused. That hadn’t been the reaction she’d been expecting. The quitting, sure, but the ring comment? That was just pathetic. Okay, maybe Amber had been around enough jewelry in her time to guess at its quality, but there was no way she could be right about Beca’s ring being fake.

No, she was obviously just saying that as revenge, to throw Beca off.

Beca turned to Jesse, fully expecting to have to apologize and promise to find a new planner before moving on to the next (almost certainly awful) cake sample only to pause at the nervous, cornered expression on his face.

“Jesse?” she asked, her stomach flipping.

He wouldn’t look at her.

“Ignore that psycho,” Beca tried. “I know she just said that to get in my head. It’s fine.”

Jesse shook his head slowly and didn’t respond.

Beca started to feel weird.

“Jesse?” she asked again, allowing an edge to creep into her voice. “It’s not… she was lying. Right?” she added a moment later, leaning forward.

The next seconds were quite possibly the longest of her life. Finally, Jesse exhaled slowly before looking up to finally meet her eyes.

The guilt she saw there stunned her.

“I was going to get a real one later,” he confessed, his voice tight as if every word pained him. “I wanted to wait until… after the wedding.”

“Why?” Beca asked, utterly aghast. If it was a financial problem, she didn’t care. If it was an honest mistake, that was fine too. The jewelry didn’t matter to her, not really.

Jesse winced before replying, “I wanted to wait in case… in case we didn’t work out and it was called off. Then, after the wedding, I was going to switch it out with a real one.”

Beca felt her mouth fall open.

The jewelry didn’t matter, but the reason behind it sure did.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jesse defended himself in a rush, “I didn’t know what you were going to do! I mean – Jesus, Beca, you’ve been fighting against this wedding since the moment we started planning it!”

His voice rose at the end, becoming steady louder as his face reddened.

Beca had ever been so disgusted with him.

“You mean since _you and Amber_ stared planning it?” she fired back, her anger growing by the second.

“Hard to plan with someone who’s obviously so against it!” Jesse half-shouted. “And you’re no help with decisions! It’s not like I can trust you to make a commitment!”

He cut off abruptly, blinking rapidly as the true meaning of his words settled between them, filling the space like cement.

“Then why’d you even ask me?” she whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

He’d asked because it was what people in three-year relationships were supposed to do. He’d asked because if he hadn’t, they’d have been living across the country from each other. He’d asked because it’s what would have happened if life was a movie.

Life wasn’t a movie.

LA really, really sucked.

“Why’d you say yes?” he shot back, quieter but no less angry.

“Because, I…” she trailed off.

She’d said yes because she hadn’t had another option. She’d said yes because Jesse was safe, Jesse was easy, Jesse was… boring.

She’d said yes because Chloe hadn’t asked her first.

“I don’t know,” Beca finally lied, the reality shaking her to the core.

His face fell, his expression crumpling until she couldn’t bear to watch anymore. She looked instead at the ring on her finger, at what must be cubic zirconia or something instead of diamond.

She kind of hated that Jesse had been right. With her right hand, she slipped the ring from her finger to place it on the pristine tablecloth, between the chocolate and coconut cakes. She sent him a tight smile and rose to leave out the same door Amber had, not quite having it in her to slam it open with as much gusto.

LA was missing Chloe.

She wondered if Jesse would run after her. It’s what would happen in a movie.

He didn’t.

As she hit the street and waved for a Taxi, Beca had to blink back the unexpected sting of tears in her eyes.

She didn’t know what was worse: that Jesse had planned for them to fail, or that she was relieved they had.

* * *

Everything was surprisingly straightforward after the breakup. Amber had already quit as their wedding planner, so she didn’t have to deal with that. After that, all it took was a simple text to Chloe ( _the wedding isn’t happening_ ) and within hours, Chloe – still in New York, three time zones away – had managed to cancel the venue, the band, the catering, and even the church service without a hitch. She even managed to get Beca refunded for everything, including the $300 venue security deposit, which was supposed to have been impossible.

Beca wasn’t sure what she’d said to make that happen, but she knew she’d never again underestimate the power of a vengeful Chloe Beale.

Because even though Chloe hadn’t said a single thing against Jesse – hadn’t even asked Beca for the full story until _after_ the practical details were taken care of – Beca knew Chloe had to be livid. Because she would be if their roles were reversed.

Beca packed her bags that night, and after checking with Chloe ( _You’re always welcome here Bec._ ), bought a one-way ticket to New York on the next available flight, figuring it was time to go back to the Original Plan. She’d called her boss at BFD records and told him she’d like to transfer to the New York branch for the foreseeable future, and, surprisingly, he’d said it would be an easy switch. Jesse, once he came back to their apartment (three hours after Beca had returned the ring), helped her carry her bags to a waiting Taxi and agreed to ship the rest of her things to her. When he asked for the address and she told him Chloe’s, his grip on the straps of her bag tightened momentarily before he placed it into the trunk.

He might have waved as the Taxi drove away, but Beca didn’t look back.

It wasn’t until she was through airport security and waiting at her gate, playing absentmindedly with her phone, that Beca realized she hadn’t told the other Bellas. Their group WhatsApp had been suspiciously silent since it had happened, and she wondered if Chloe had warned them to leave her alone for a while.

She took a deep breath and closed the Duolingo app (her French was coming along nicely, not that she’d ever get the chance to use it), already dreading the torrent of sympathy that was about to be flung at her. Reluctantly, she opened the group chat and told the rest of the Bellas the same thing she’d texted to Chloe hours before, adding the details of Amber’s meltdown and the fake engagement ring.

As soon as the message was sent, the floodgates opened; her phone buzzed and beeped so much that several other people waiting at her gate stared. Wincing and trying to ignore the glares being sent her way, Beca unlocked her phone, silenced it, and read through the messages. It was about what she’d expected. Amy dismissed Jesse immediately, more upset about Beca missing her bachelorette party (which Amy had chosen to plan, rather than Chloe) than anything; Emily offered an excess amount of sympathy; Flo offered to make her as many smoothies as she needed to recover; Cynthia-Rose cussed Jesse out and called him too “clingy and happy”; Lilly just said “dead,” which made Beca question Jesse’s safety; Jessica and Ashley both sent emojis; Aubrey wasn’t surprised that Beca had driven Amber to snap, but thought it happened for the best; and Stacie suggested sending Amber a fruit basket as a thank you for severing what would have been “an awful marriage anyway.”

Chloe was notably absent from the chat, but Beca chalked it up to having talked to her separately about the whole thing sooner.

Beca wondered vaguely if Cynthia-Rose would think Chloe was too clingy and happy.

She ignored the still-exploding WhatsApp momentarily (Amy was still lamenting the loss of the bachelorette party) to text her dad and Shelia about the breakup. He responded surprisingly quickly for the late hour, offering his condolences. He seemed a little disappointed – he’d always liked Jesse – but agreed that ending the relationship was the best thing to do. For some reason, he hadn’t seemed surprised that Chloe had helped her so much.

The crackle of the airport sound system startled her, and she looked up. The gate opened, and her boarding zone was called by a man with a scruffy goatee and a bored voice. She rose, shoved her phone in her purse, hefted her carry-on over a shoulder, and stepped in line for boarding.

She should have been scared, she supposed, as she shuffled forward in the slow-moving line. She was giving up her dreams in LA – though, really, LA wasn’t all that great after all – to restart at BFD’s sister branch in New York. She had ended a long-term relationship that had led to an engagement. She had no idea what to expect from the miniscule apartment they’d all picked out together before Jesse had changed everything and ruined the Original Plan.

But she wasn’t scared. If she was honest with herself, it was because she knew she was going to see Chloe.

She reached the front of the queue waiting to board, handing the airline employee her boarding pass with a tight smile. As she did, she half-wondered if she would hear her name being yelled in desperation and turn to see Jesse standing there, hair windswept and clothes crumpled like would happen in a movie. She wondered if she would still get on the plane if he did come.

Somehow, inexplicably, she knew that if it were Chloe she was leaving, Chloe would have done it. Chloe would have come after her.

She stepped into the tunnel without a backward glance.

And if Beca was really, truly, and completely honest with herself, she knew that the real reason she wasn’t scared was that she’d known that it would come to this sooner or later.

Leaving Jesse to go to Chloe. As if there had ever been another option.

* * *

From there, things were easy. Much easier than they really should have been, Beca thought.

She’d arrived in New York at an ungodly hour only to be swept up in a massive hug from Chloe. The instant she’d fallen into Chloe’s arms, everything else had fallen away. She’d just held tight, inhaling Chloe’s familiar perfume, a sense of calm washing over her instantly.

Only to be disrupted by Amy saying loudly, “Honestly, Beca, you’re much better off here with Ginger and I than with the annoying puppy.”

Beca had broken away and faced Amy’s tackle of a hug, even as Amy had droned on about how much of a pain it would have been to fly to LA for a quick wedding and back anyway, and really, LA smog was so bad for the lungs that living there would have drained Beca’s soul even more than being married to Jesse probably would have.

And just like that, everything seemed okay. They’d walked out of the airport together and took Beca to the small apartment she really should have been living in for two months already. Sure, sharing a bed with Chloe wasn’t exactly ideal (even though it could potentially be fun), but it had always been a part of the Original Plan. So, it all worked out in the end.

It shouldn’t have been that easy. Beca felt guilty it was so easy.

She had a new relationship status, a new job, and a new home. And it was all totally fine, because she had Chloe.

The rest of her things had arrived three days after she did, Jesse shipping them express to her at his own expense. She hadn’t spoken to him beyond coordinating practical details and suggesting that he look for a new roommate to cover the cost of the LA apartment.

It was so, so easy. It really shouldn’t have been.

But it was. And Beca thought she knew why.

It was all Chloe. Chloe kept the loneliness at bay. Chloe reminded her every day that her job was cool and amazing and everything she ever hoped for, just in New York. Chloe was her real home.

Beca felt a little guilty about that, too. She figured it wasn’t the best thing in the world to realize she was falling for her best friend only a week after ending an engagement to someone else.

But that’s what happened.

She wasn’t surprised, not really. It had always been there, she supposed, and she just hadn’t noticed.

Maybe it should’ve been weird; she’d asked Chloe to be her Maid of Honor, for Christ’s sake. Beca really wanted to punch herself for that one. Thankfully, thought, it really wasn’t weird at all. Chloe was the same as she always was, maybe even a little happier and bubblier than her usual.

She hoped Chloe felt the same about her. Chloe had done so much for her and had spent the week at her side while Amy had found convenient excuses to leave them alone (“Bumper and I really need to perfect the horizontal monster mash.”) so they often had the place to themselves.

Which was how, a week after Beca’s plane landed in New York, she found herself alone yet again in the small apartment with a happily humming Chloe sitting next to her on their shared bed. Beca worked on her laptop (her new job had her much more involved in the process already than the one in LA ever had) while Chloe scrolled through Instagram on her phone.

“Ooh, Bec, what do you think?” Chloe asked, lifting her phone to show Beca something.

“Huh?”

“Beca, look.”

An elbow in her side finally tore Beca’s attention from her laptop and she turned to see a blurry video of someone she vaguely recognized swinging around on a stripper pole.

Beca squinted at the phone, wondering exactly what Chloe was getting at.

“Uh… her technique needs work?” she tried.

Chloe rolled her eyes affectionately and sighed. “No, I mean what do you think of poles at a bachelorette party?”

“Oh, uh…” Beca frowned, still not understanding.

“This is Taylor’s bachelorette party.”

“… Okay.”

“Taylor. From the High Notes? Taylor. Come on, Bec, you know. Taylor.”

“Okay, saying her name over and over isn’t going to make me remember,” Beca laughed, even as a dim recollection of Taylor drifted through her memory. “I think I know her. She had a pole at her bachelorette?”

“Yep!” Chloe enthused, apparently happy that Beca was getting the point. “What do you think of that?”

Anyone else might think it was tactless to talk about bachelorette parties just a week after Beca cancelled her wedding, but that was just Chloe: no boundaries.

Beca shrugged. “I mean, good for her. Honestly, Amy probably had something similar planned for my party before it all blew up,” she joked.

The guilty look that came over Chloe’s face really should have been a warning sign.

“Oh my – no way!” Beca half-shrieked. “You knew she was planning something like this?!”

Chloe cringed, holding up her hands defensively as she replied, “Okay, not this _exactly_ , but, like…”

“What, _exactly_?”

“Ithinkshewasgonnahirestrippers,” Chloe said in a rush, looking at anywhere but Beca.

Beca stared.

With a deep breath, Chloe repeated, “I think she was gonna hire strippers.”

Beca felt her face twist in mild disgust. “Male ones?”

Chloe raised an eyebrow curiously. “I mean, I kind of assumed. Maybe both?”

“Both would have been better,” Beca replied smugly, enjoying the way Chloe’s other eyebrow rose to join the first. “Now I’m bummed I missed out on seeing that,” she added, not missing the way Chloe had let her phone screen fall asleep in her lap.

Beca turned back to her laptop and resumed working, feeling Chloe’s eyes on her. She could all but hear Chloe’s brain whirring, processing the information, but before Beca could tease her more or ask her what she was thinking, Chloe broke the quiet.

“I could do it, you know.”

Beca’s fingers froze at her keyboard and her breath caught in her throat. She whipped around to stare hard at Chloe, positive she’d misheard her. She had to have misheard her. There was no way Chloe had actually just offered to strip for her. She’d definitely misunderstood.

“What?” Beca choked out, trying hard to ignore the way her heart started hammering against her ribs.

A corner of Chloe’s mouth quirked up and she lifted one shoulder. “I could. You know. Strip.” She shrugged again, a little awkwardly. “I had those exotic dance lessons,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to where her fingers played with the bedspread between them.

Beca was pretty sure she’d died in some freak accident. There was no way Chloe was actually doing this. It had to be a joke. That could be the only explanation. She started to smile, waiting for Chloe to burst out laughing; instead, though, a pink tinge appeared on Chloe’s cheeks.

Beca’s stomach dropped through her toes.

“You’re – you’re serious?” she managed, hearing the disbelief coloring her own tone. “You’re actually serious?”

Chloe drew her lower lip into her mouth and nodded at the bedspread.

Beca felt like she’d been hit over the head. Her mouth went dry and her hands started to sweat, which was a strange combination. Her first impulse was to run far away. It didn’t make sense; why the hell would Chloe offer to strip for her?

Her second impulse was to say yes. It was shocking, almost, how badly she wanted to say yes. She had definitely developed feelings for Chloe, and the idea of seeing her do _that_ was beyond enthralling.

Beca was single for the first time in three years. Amy was gone for the rest of the night. She and Chloe were both adults, and Beca knew Chloe would never do anything to hurt her.

She heard herself as if from a long distance say, “Yeah. Okay.”

Chloe’s eyes snapped up to meet hers.

Beca stared back, her tongue suddenly useless. A weird tension filled the space between them.

“I’m not really… dressed for the occasion,” Chloe finally said, her voice a little hoarse.

She was wearing tight jeans and a casual, light blue-colored top with a plunging V-neck that hinted at cleavage and left the strength in her upper arms on clear display. She was barefoot – they both were – because she was in bed.

She looked amazing.

“I mean, what you’ve got on is, like, it’s good,” Beca shrugged, trying to seem offhand. By the way Chloe smirked at her, she knew she’d sounded anything _but_ offhand.

“Right!” Chloe chirped, clasping her hands together. “Let’s do this.”

“Uh, right,” Beca said, shifting in the bed awkwardly, “where… where should…?”

Thankfully, Chloe seemed to understand. She looked around the small apartment, her gaze landing on something in the kitchen. She rose from the bed, stepping forward to grab the back of one of the three wooden chairs at the small table. She lifted it so it wouldn’t scrape on the floor and positioned it to sit more centrally in the room, between the bed and the table. Beca couldn’t help but watch her, drinking in the grace with which she moved and the strength in her arms as she moved the furniture.

It suddenly felt very warm in the apartment.

Beca stared at the chair for a moment, then glanced up to see Chloe already watching her, looking… excited. She definitely looked excited.

Jerkily, Beca scooted herself up in the bed so she was sitting more than laying, then swung her legs over the side to stand up. Her knees trembled a little, she noticed idly as she made her way to the chair, sinking into it with a quiet exhale.

“Comfy?” Chloe asked, her voice low and sultry.

Beca nodded once, allowing herself to relax more fully into the backrest. She tried wiping her hands on her jeans inconspicuously as Chloe crossed the room to pick up her phone again, unlocking it. Beca assumed she was connecting it to their Bluetooth speaker.

Beca shifted a little in her chair as she watched Chloe scroll, brow furrowed in concentration. She crossed her legs, then uncrossed them. For some reason, she couldn’t make her heel stop tapping on the floor.

“Bec?”

Chloe’s voice, soft and cautious, surprised her.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Chloe said quietly.

Beca’s heel stopped tapping abruptly.

“I want to,” she said quickly, “I’m just – nervous.”

She cursed herself internally; she hadn’t meant to let that slip out.

Chloe’s eyebrows arched again, but she didn’t comment. Her eyes searched Beca’s face for another second before dropping to look back at her phone.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Beca had no idea what was going to happen. She half-expected the whole thing to still be a joke, that Chloe wasn’t actually going to give her a lap dance, that at any moment, Meghan Trainor’s “Me Too” or something equally ridiculous would come pouring out of the speaker.

She’d seen Chloe dance with the Bellas; as the group’s choreographer, she was really good at it. She knew how to dance well and knew some sexy dance moves that had been distracting at times. But still, the idea of Chloe – sweet, sunshine-out-the-ass-Chloe – giving her a lap dance didn’t quite compute.

She really should have known better.

When the sound of dreamy, slow strings filled the air, Beca froze in her chair.

And when Chloe put her phone (now playing “Gooey” by Glass Animals) facedown on her nightstand and turned to shoot her a confident smirk, Beca’s hands balled into fists in her lap.

This was most definitely one of her lady jams (to use Chloe’s words). And by the way Chloe walked toward her, gliding over the floor in time with the music, Beca was pretty sure Chloe knew.

_I come close  
__Let me show you everything I know_  
  
Chloe wasn’t doing much, just walking toward her leisurely, swinging her hips a little more than usual, but Beca couldn’t tear her eyes away.

_The jungle slang_   
Spinning around my head and I stare

She stopped a foot away from Beca, staring down at her. Her hips lifted and swiveled agonizingly slowly to match the music. Beca swallowed hard, warmth creeping up her neck as her eyes flicked between Chloe’s hips and her face.

_While my naked fool_

The song picked up, soft beats adding another layer to the music, and Chloe’s hips moved faster at the same time her hands tangled into her own hair. She bent forward, the soft vanilla smell of her perfume reaching Beca’s nose as their faces were drawn dangerously close together. Chloe’s eyes flicked down to Beca’s lips and it took all of Beca’s willpower not to extend forward to meet her.

_Dope so good, a silky-smooth perfume_

But then, Chloe smirked and arched her back, flipping her hair like she’d done this before and Beca’s breathing stopped.

_Ride my little pooh bear, wanna take a chance_

The beat picked up further, and Chloe’s hands dropped to her hips, resting there to guide them in what Beca soon learned was a never-ending circle. The motion guided the rest of her body in a slow pivot until her back was to Beca. Beca couldn’t stop herself; her eyes dropped just as Chloe widened her stance, dropped her hands, and bent forward, and that was definitely Chloe’s ass in her face.

_I'd say I told you so but you just gonna cry_

Beca couldn’t look away; though Chloe was in jeans, they were tight, and she could see the perfect shape hidden under the denim. She imagined how easy it would be to reach forward and touch, sliding a hand in the space between her thighs. Before she could act on the urge, Chloe rose and turned around again, moving even closer, lower lip snared between her teeth, and Beca knew she’d been caught. Her face warmed and she was ready to blurt out an apology but –

_Mind my simple song, this ain't gonna work  
Mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy smirk_

By the way Chloe’s eyes bored into hers, she didn’t think Chloe cared. Beca’s mouth went dry and she shifted again in her chair, doing anything she could to hide her reaction to seeing Chloe’s ass up close. But then Chloe’s hands reappeared on her hips only to trail up, snagging the edge of her shirt, lifting it a little to expose a few inches of skin before the material dropped back down.

Of course Chloe would have perfect abs.

_I can't take this place, I can't take this place_

Chloe’s hands didn’t stop. They rose over her chest, reached her collarbone, and trailed back down. Beca snapped her eyes back to Chloe’s face, wanting to be less obvious, but she knew Chloe had seen. The look on her face, some combination of amusement and curiosity mixed into a small smile, told Beca that Chloe _knew_ exactly what effect those simple moves had on her.

_Truth be told_ _  
I've been here, I've done this all before_

Chloe’s hands reached her hips again and started on their path back up. Again, her fingers caught on the hem of her shirt, but this time, she kept lifting. She lifted the shirt up until her black bra was showing, then even higher until to take the shirt off completely, dropping it to the side.

_I cut it up and puff it into bloom_

And then shirtless Chloe was standing in front of her with a sexy smirk on her face. Beca stared and stared and she was definitely objectifying her best friend, but Chloe looked amazing, all ab lines and what was surely perfection under her black bra and then Chloe leaned forward, her cleavage most definitely on display, to rest her hands lightly on Beca’s knees.

_Ride my little pooh bear, wanna take a chance_  
_Wanna sip this smooth air, kick it in the sand_  
 _I'd say I told you so but you just gonna cry_

The sudden contact after minutes of watching Chloe move made Beca whimper involuntarily. The smirk on Chloe’s face grew and she applied pressure to Beca’s knees and – and Chloe spread Beca’s legs.  
  
_Mind my simple song, this ain't gonna work_  
_Mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy smirk_  
 _I can't take this place, I can't take this place_

Beca’s palms were definitely sweating again and she was uncomfortably warm, but then Chloe sank to her knees, her upper body settled between Beca’s legs. The hands on Beca’s legs slid up to her mid-thigh. Beca’s toes curled and her back arched involuntarily to rock herself forward, but she stopped the movement before it really began. Chloe noticed; the heat of her gaze seared right into Beca to settle in her lower stomach.

_Hold my hand, flow back to the summer time_ _  
Tangled in the willows, now comes the tide_

Chloe rose up, moving through Beca’s legs to brush her barely-clothed chest along Beca’s entire upper body. Beca heard herself make a strangled choking noise and her hands rose automatically to rest on Chloe’s lower back, meeting hot skin. Instantly though, Chloe grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away and pressing them back to her sides as she stepped back and out from between Beca’s legs to send cold air rushing between them.

Beca got the message; look but don’t touch.

Somehow, it only made her want to touch Chloe even more.

_How can I believe you, how can I be nice_ _  
Tripping around the tree stumps in your summer smile_

Chloe stepped around Beca, moving to stand behind her chair. Beca tried to twist to see her, but soft fingertips pressed into her cheekbones from behind, keeping her head turned forward. She felt Chloe lean over her from behind, heard Chloe’s voice humming along to the music softly as something soft and wet brushed her ear.

Lips. Chloe’s lips were at her ear.

Heat shot between Beca’s legs and her thighs clenched automatically. All too soon, though, Chloe pulled back, dropping her fingertips from Beca’s face, and moved again.

_Ride my little pooh bear, wanna take a chance_ _  
Wanna sip this smooth air, kick it in the sand_

At the return of the fast chorus, Chloe swung a leg over her hips and straddled her in the chair, knees bracketing her sides. Chloe’s arms fell to rest over her shoulders as her body started rolling into Beca’s, pressing down and into her.

Beca moaned at the teasing contact, her hands flying to support Chloe’s lower back. This time, Chloe didn’t stop her; Beca’s fingers traced along Chloe’s spine, down to the waist of her jeans and back up, caressing around her ribs.

Their positioning had Beca’s face level with Chloe’s throat.

_Mind my simple song, this ain't gonna work_ _  
Mind my wicked words and tipsy topsy smirk_

Without thinking, without considering what she was doing, Beca extended forward to press her lips to the neck she’d been wanting to taste for nearly four years.

She felt and heard Chloe’s sharp gasp; her rolling rhythm shuddered to a halt. Fingers appeared in Beca’s hair, pulling her away and tilting her head back to make eye contact.

Chloe stared down at her, eyes wide and dark. They flicked between both of Beca’s intensely, making panic pool in Beca’s chest.

“I – Chlo, don’t –”

Chloe’s lips crashed down onto hers, capturing them in a searing kiss that sent adrenaline shooting through Beca’s entire body. Beca responded as well as she could, moving her lips in time with Chloe’s. She felt Chloe’s tongue trace her lower lip; stunned, she gasped, and then all she could taste was Chloe. She gripped more tightly to Chloe’s back, drawing a soft whimper from her throat.

Chloe sank into her lap, sitting on her rather than straddling her, making the angle easier on Beca’s neck. Beca heard herself groan, and then Chloe resumed moving her hips, this time grinding down into Beca. 

Beca dimly registered that the music emitting from the Bluetooth speaker had changed; instead of the hypnotic quality of “Gooey,” the electronic, sexy opening chords of SoMo’s “Curve” filled the room. Beca groaned again, clutching at Chloe’s back; “Curve” was most definitely another of her lady jams. Immediately, Chloe’s grinding shifted to match the beat, hips rolling into Beca’s again and again.

_Get out of bed with me on your mind_  
_Baby, you know it's a matter of time_  
_Drop me a line, whether it's three in the morning_  
_Raining, but it's you that's storming_

Chloe’s tongue was in her mouth and her hair was between her fingers and her hips kept rocking forward, driving the heat between them higher with every second. The hands at the base of her skull slid back down to rest on her shoulders at the same time Chloe broke the kiss to instead drop her mouth to Beca’s neck.

_Run it back, done with that_  
_Thought you were never coming back, oh_  
_Don't do that, heart attack_

Beca heard herself keen at the feel of Chloe’s tongue dragging over her skin. Her fingers wound even more tightly into Chloe’s hair, tugging slightly to make Chloe whimper.

Breaking away from Beca’s neck, Chloe leaned back as well as she could while sitting in Beca’s lap and for a second Beca wondered if she’d done something wrong, but then Chloe’s hands were at the hem of her shirt and lifting. Beca’s breath caught in her throat and she raised her arms to help until, suddenly, she was as shirtless as Chloe.

Chloe swooped back down, their lips crashing together even as Beca’s hands skimmed over Chloe’s back, finding the clasp on the black bra she wore. She fumbled at it, unclasping it relatively quickly, but then Chloe pulled back again.

Beca saw the question in her eyes, the slight hesitation, but Beca was sure. She nodded and leaned forward to reunite their lips. She felt Chloe’s hands slide around the strap of her own bra and start to work at the clasp.

_You're the only one that I want_ _  
And I've waiting for this call for so long_

The moment her bra gave, Chloe’s hands were on her, reaching under the material to cup and explore, running her thumbs over taut skin. Something in Beca snapped; her hands dropped to the button on Chloe’s jeans, tugging it open and unzipping them in one movement.

Chloe rose off her lap, standing and pulling her bra off the rest of the way. Beca stared, her mouth going dry even as she stood from her chair and tossed her own bra aside. Chloe’s eyes dropped to her chest instantly, her hands already reaching for the button on Beca’s jeans.

_You know I've been waiting so damn long_

Beca guided Chloe backward toward the bed, knowing that maybe they were going too fast too soon, but all she could think about was how good Chloe’s breasts felt in her hands and how much she loved the little mewling noises that tore from Chloe’s throat every time Beca ran her thumbs over their peaks.

The backs of Chloe’s knees hit the bed and she stopped; Beca tried to push her onto it but Chloe shook her head and flipped them so that Beca was the one with her back to the bed.

“I only want you,” Chloe whispered as she shoved Beca back to lie on the mattress.

_I got to, I got to, I got to_  
_Hold onto, hold onto, hold on (no)_  
_I hold onto the curve in your back_  
_While you lie on your back_

Chloe was on top of her immediately, straddling one of her thighs, her hands on either side of Beca’s head to hold herself up. She attached her lips to Beca’s neck, sucking and nipping at the skin there until Beca knew she was going to bruise.

The first roll of Chloe’s hips into her sent Beca’s hands flying to Chloe’s back, clutching desperately. Chloe thrust her hips forward again, and Beca was on _fire_. She heard herself groan, and then Chloe was kissing down her neck, down her chest, until, with a devilish smirk up at her, Chloe stooped her head to close her lips around the peak of Beca’s left breast.

_Oh, you like it like that, oh_  
_I want to, I want to, I want to_  
_Hold onto, hold onto, hold on (no)_  
_I hold onto the curve in your back_

Beca keened loudly, her back arching off the mattress and hands turning to claws on Chloe’s shoulders. Chloe released her breast with a hiss, and Beca knew she must have scratched her but Chloe didn’t seem to care; she switched to Beca’s other side, tongue prodding and soothing, her hips still swiveling until Beca finally had the presence of mind to bend her knee to give Chloe something to bear down on.

Chloe’s body trembled above her and she ground down on Beca’s thigh with a deep moan. She dropped to an elbow, more of her weight resting on top of Beca as she dragged her free hand along Beca’s side, her nails scraping lightly.

_Oh, it's getting (hot)_  
_I can feel your (pulse)_  
_Whispering, "don't (stop)"_

Beca arched up again, needing more, needing Chloe. Her body was overheated, her core throbbed and she saw stars with every press of Chloe’s hips into hers, but it wasn’t enough.

“Please,” she managed brokenly. “I – I need, Chlo, I –”

Chloe lifted her head to meet Beca’s eyes. The sight of her tangled hair and blown pupils flooded Beca’s veins with want. She let her hands drop to Chloe’s backside and pulled to bring her pelvis down into her own and moaned desperately.

Chloe moaned, too, before scrambling back to stand at the end of the bed. She reached for the cuffs of Beca’s jeans. Beca lifted her hips to help and Chloe ripped her pants off in one smooth motion before working on taking her own.

There wasn’t any question of where this was going anymore, so Beca reached down to remove her own underwear, but before she could, Chloe was on top of her again, resting on an elbow, this time cradled between her open legs.

_I need you the (most)_  
_How many nights have I blessed ya?_  
_How many nights have you called my name?_  
_Don't play, I know you wanna stay, and so let's just-_

Chloe’s hand was instantly on a breast, kneading and pressing, making Beca see fireworks. Beca’s hips canted upward, searching for friction, desperate for Chloe to get the hint. The hand on her breast slid down her stomach frustratingly slowly until the throbbing between her legs threatened to overtake her other senses; Beca squirmed and tilted her hips, wiggling down and against Chloe, needing more contact.

Chloe understood instantly; the hand on her stomach stopped teasing and instead dropped to cup her crotch over her underwear. Beca’s jaw dropped and she tried to gasp, but all she could hear was Chloe moaning above her. Beca scrabbled at Chloe’s back, running her nails up and down, trying to wiggle down in the bed for more contact and attempting to open her legs even wider.

Chloe lifted back to create a hair of space between them, her fingertips moving to trace the waistband of Beca’s underwear.

“Is this –” she started, only to be cut off by Beca pulling her down into a kiss and lifting her hips again.

“God, yes, just –”

The rest of her sentence got lost in how it felt to have Chloe’s hand slip down the front of her underwear.

Beca almost came right then, at the very first touch.

“Bec, you’re… soaked,” Chloe breathed, her fingers stroking and exploring.

Beca tried to respond, but all that came out was a garbled mess of syllables; her mind was too focused on how Chloe’s fingers felt gliding against her.

Chloe didn’t waste time teasing, instead finding Beca’s throbbing bundle of nerves instantly and circling it tightly, adding pressure with each pass. Beca’s entire body jerked and her head pressed back into the pillow. Her hips rocked at the rhythm she let Chloe set, a fast, staccato one that made her breath come in gasps.

“Ah – _fuck_ – that’s – don’t stop,” Beca panted, another slew of curses falling from her mouth when Chloe’s fingers dropped to circle her entrance.

“Can I?”

“If you don’t, I swear to god –”

Chloe laughed, a breathless chuckle that was at odds with the casual way she slid one finger inside. Beca grunted, her hips lifting as Chloe pulled back then pressed in, adding a second finger. She moved slowly at first, then increased her pace until she was thrusting hard and fast into Beca.

Beca’s eyes rolled back and she crossed her heels over Chloe’s back, trying to pull her in further, trying to take more of her. Chloe moaned and moved faster, using her hips to drive into Beca more firmly with each thrust.

The bed had started making a cacophony of noise, but Beca was too far gone to care; she wasn’t going to be stopping this for anyone, angry neighbors be damned. Her body burned and she knew she was digging her nails into Chloe’s back too hard but then Chloe started curling her fingers as she pulled back to _rub_ at that one spot inside.

Beca’s body tensed, her jaw clenching against the near-constant stream of syllables flowing from her mouth as she was hit with the realization that this was Chloe, best friend Chloe, former Maid of Honor _Chloe_ inside of her. Her hips locked in place and she felt herself starting to tighten and twitch around Chloe’s fingers.

“I’m – I’m, Chlo, I’m –”

Chloe redoubled her efforts, twisting her hand to press her palm against Beca and adding a third finger. Beca cried out; her senses were so overwhelmed and she was so _full_ and her legs tensed and her back arched and she felt herself clenching so that Chloe was held in place, palm pressing _there_ , until, with a final flutter of the fingers inside of her, Beca came harder than she ever had.

She bit down onto Chloe’s shoulder to keep from yelling out. She thrashed against Chloe, wave after wave making her body shudder. Chloe kept her hand where it was, moving her fingers gently to prolong it until, with a shaky breath, Beca’s body gave out and she melted back into the mattress.

She uncrossed her heels from Chloe’s back, wincing when Chloe eased out of her. Almost reverently, Chloe stroked through her length, the barest brush against sensitive nerves sending aftershocks through Beca’s body and making her twitch.

“Don’t even think about it,” Beca groaned in response to the question in Chloe’s eyes. “I can’t again.”

Chloe pouted a little but pulled away, removing her hand from Beca’s (completely ruined) underwear. She wiped her hand on her own thigh before rolling off of Beca – whose legs immediately collapsed and fell to the side – to lay on her back next to her.

Beca stared at the ceiling for a moment, breathing hard, her head spinning. She couldn’t believe she’d just gotten the best orgasm of her life from Chloe Beale.

And yet – when Beca turned her head to make sure, there Chloe was, watching her so tenderly that it made Beca’s chest fill with happiness.

“So, where did that come from?” Beca asked, still catching her breath.

Chloe shrugged. “I guess… you could say I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

Beca’s heart throbbed at the uncharacteristic shyness in Chloe’s voice. She felt Chloe shift next to her and realized with a pang how uncomfortable she must be.

The second that occurred to her, she found herself moving like she’d been possessed, rolling so that she hovered over Chloe, hips between her legs. Chloe blinked up at her, stunned, and Beca almost wanted to laugh. She settled for a smirk that made Chloe whimper and caused hands to appear on her back before she descended without preamble onto Chloe’s chest.

The guttural groan that tore free from Chloe’s throat almost made her come again.

Mimicking Chloe’s rocking motion, Beca drove her hips forward, feeling the heat and moisture even through Chloe’s underwear as she rolled her tongue around pebbling skin. She held it between her lips, sucking as she pulled back until it slid from her mouth. Beneath her, Chloe collapsed back into the bed with a gasp, only for Beca to drop her mouth to the other side.

Beca stooped to one elbow, her free hand roving gracelessly over Chloe’s side, skimming Chloe’s previously attended to breast and tracing down the lines of her abs. As she circled her navel, Chloe’s hips bucked up into hers tantalizingly. Beca had to freeze for a moment, releasing Chloe’s breast from her mouth while she struggled to control herself.

She wanted Chloe.

With a shaky breath, Beca reached down further to cup Chloe’s crotch like Chloe had for her. Chloe moaned and pressed herself into Beca’s hand; even through the cotton material, Beca could _feel_ Chloe, and knowing that it was all for her sent tremors through her body.

“Please – ah – I need –” Chloe writhed beneath her, hands digging impatiently into Beca’s back, tugging her hips down.

Beca understood completely.

She removed her hand and dropped her mouth back down to Chloe’s chest, kissing and licking and sucking before continuing the journey south. Chloe’s hips tilted up into her chest, so Beca didn’t waste much time; she pressed only a few kisses to Chloe’s stomach, dipping her tongue into her navel with a teasing grin before moving to crawl backward until she was half on the bed, half off, her shoulders settled firmly between Chloe’s legs.

“Pillow?” she asked, glancing up.

“What? God, Bec, yes,” Chloe hissed, flinging one down for Beca to prop under Chloe’s hips, lifting her.

Beca could feel the heat radiating from Chloe against her face, Chloe’s panties doing nothing to hide how much she wanted this. Beca pressed her lips high on Chloe’s inner thigh, her tongue tracing over wetness that had streaked down to make Chloe gasp and jerk. It was everything, and her fingers dug into Chloe’s thighs. She ran her nose along the same path, feeling Chloe squirm above her.

She glanced up, catching sight of Chloe watching her, looking pained, one hand tangled in her own hair while the other fisted the sheets.

With that, Beca’s restraint snapped and she reached for the panties, yanking them down and twisting out of the way so she could take them completely off. She dropped them on the floor and half-collapsed back to her stomach between Chloe’s legs.

She barely settled before a hand appeared in her hair and Chloe parted her legs even further. On a whim, Beca reached to hook her arms under Chloe’s thighs, resting her hands on Chloe’s hips to hold her in place.

“Bec, fuck,” Chloe breathed, her eyes squeezing shut again and hips starting to rock, already setting a rhythm.

That’s what pushed Beca over the edge; hearing Chloe swear like that. She’d been planning on teasing more, but Beca knew she didn’t need it.

“ _Tu es si belle_ ,” Beca murmured, “ _J'ai hâte de te goûter_.”

Strange that something as vulgar as “I can’t wait to taste you,” should sound so good in French.

Chloe’s eyes flew wide at the French and her back arched off the bed and Beca could _see_ the effect it those few simple words had had on her. With a desperate groan, the last of Beca’s self-control unraveled and she leaned in and pressed her tongue against Chloe to swipe up through her length.

It made Chloe cry out and Beca’s hips ground down into the mattress on instinct, finding little relief. She kept going, licking broad paths through folds; Chloe was soaked, and it was the best moment of Beca’s life. Breathing became a problem, but she didn’t care, just kept licking and sucking on soft skin, reveling in the noises Chloe made. She looked up, watching Chloe’s reaction as she swirled her tongue around, noticing how a flick there made Chloe’s eyes flutter and a broad press here made her mouth drop open.

“Bec – I – oh my god,” Chloe panted, writhing and bucking against Beca’s mouth, obviously trying to encourage some kind of rhythm.

Beca waited, licking and sucking, humming occasionally to press vibrations from her throat into Chloe’s center, purposely avoiding a specific bud of nerves. She alternated between licking broad strokes and flicking, occasionally prodding with her nose to draw deep groans from Chloe.

It wasn’t until the hand in Beca’s hair started to claw almost painfully and the heels on her back kicked into her that Beca attached her mouth fully to press her tongue inside.

Chloe’s head crashed back against the pillow and her hips rose into Beca’s face until she used her grip to force them back down into the mattress.

“ _Fuck_ – that’s – yes – shit –” Chloe panted, the muscles in her stomach rippling and twitching. Her thighs started to close around Beca’s head, and Beca had to tug to keep Chloe open.

She dragged her tongue along Chloe’s walls deliberately slowly, pressing hard, before pulling out and pushing back in. It made her jaw cramp a little, but she kept going, her hips again pressing into the mattress desperately as if she’d never gotten relief. She kept the steady rhythm, in out, in, out, until Chloe’s hips jerked wildly and she lost her grip. Chloe set a frantic pace, fast thrusts punctuated with curse words Beca had never heard her say before.

She’d never done this before but _god_ she’d better get to do it again.

Freed from Beca’s grip, Chloe’s thighs came up to close around her, holding her in place so that they were rocking together. Beca reached a hand around, pressing her fingers to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for her attention. Chloe’s entire body jolted and she cried out, so Beca pressed harder, making firm little circles with her fingers even as she continued to push in and out with her tongue.

Suddenly, Chloe tensed, her center pulsing a little around Beca’s tongue. Beca moved faster, focusing on the sensation she’d felt before in herself but never in someone else, and especially never around her tongue. She pressed in closer, curling her tongue to rub inside and circling harder with her fingers, brushing and stroking, flicking the bud side to side.

 “ _God_ – Bec – don’t stop, I’m so – _shit_ – keep doing that – I’m going to –”

She kept her rhythm steady, fingers pressing and circling endlessly as Chloe’s back arched and her hips locked in place, teetering on the edge until, with one final nudge of Beca’s fingers, Chloe spasmed, pulsing around Beca’s tongue as she came.

Beca looked up to watch it happen, taking in Chloe’s furrowed brow, open mouth, and closed eyes, memorizing every detail as she pulled her tongue back and moved her fingers gently, easing Chloe down. She finally relaxed with a deep groan, her body sagging down into the mattress and her thighs falling open to send cool air to Beca’s face.

But Beca didn’t want to stop yet.

“Look at me,” Beca said, waiting until Chloe’s dazed blue eyes met hers. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, too. _Tu es tout pour moi_.”

And before Chloe could even blink, Beca ran her tongue over her again, making her squeak and throw her head back. The second time she did it, she felt Chloe’s entire body quake, and the third lick made Chloe’s hips lift with a groan.

Beca kept going, licking and pulling still-swollen skin into her mouth. Chloe’s hands wove into her hair again, pulling her closer and closer as Beca worked, nudging her tongue and nose against nerves, suckling and lapping until Chloe was writhing and bucking under her again in a matter of minutes.

She took another broad lick through Chloe to latch her lips on the bundle to suck and Chloe fell apart with a cry for a second time. Beca kept going, ready to take her to a third (or fourth or fifth) when she felt Chloe push at her. She glanced up to see Chloe smiling weakly and shaking her head.

“Get up here,” Chloe sighed, her face and chest still flushed and so, so sexy.

Reluctantly, Beca pressed one last kiss to Chloe’s center – smiling at the way it made Chloe swear softly – before she lifted herself up from the mattress. She crawled over Chloe’s body on her hands and knees to hover over her as she leaned down for a kiss. Chloe responded eagerly, her tongue flicking out to taste herself on Beca’s lips.

“Okay?” Beca asked somewhat sarcastically as she rolled off Chloe to lay beside her.

Immediately, Chloe cuddled into her, her face in Beca’s neck, an arm slung over her waist, and one leg thrown over her hip.

“More than okay,” Chloe breathed. “Can we do that again sometime?”

Beca laughed and said, “I think I’ll die if we don’t.”

Chloe hummed in agreement, then asked softly, “When did you learn French?”

Beca couldn’t stop the smug grin she felt growing on her face. “Let’s just say it was a relatively recent development.”

She felt Chloe shudder against her, pressing closer to melt even further into Beca’s body.

“I like it. And remind me to send your former wedding planner a fruit basket,” she murmured sleepily.

Beca trailed her fingertips along Chloe’s back, smiling into the darkness of the apartment.

“I might send her one myself.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs are Glass Animals' "Gooey" and SoMo's "Curve" if you're interested.
> 
> French translations (don't sue me I used Google translate):
> 
> Tu es si belle: You are so beautiful.
> 
> J'ai hâte de te goûter: I can't wait to taste you.
> 
> Tu es tout pour moi: You are everything to me.


End file.
